


Blackout

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Forced Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-04
Updated: 2006-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-20 06:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Spike starts having blackouts, waking up in strange places and under highly questionable circumstances.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AtS S5. Takes place sometime after A Hole in the World. Massive hugs and snuggles to [](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/profile)[miss_c667](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/) for betaing.

The first time it happened he woke up lying on the floor in the elevator, the ping-ping-ping of the door as it bumped repeatedly against his foot ringing in his ears. His head was spinning, nausea rising in his throat and when he sat up the effort almost made him throw up. Drawing his knees up to his chest the door finally shut and the cart started to rise. When he felt it come to a halt he got up quickly and managed to put on a blank expression before the door slid open.

“Spike.”

“Yeah. What?” He tried to look indignant to hide his confusion as Angel frowned at him.

“The Wyara? At that bar?”

“There’s a Wyara at a bar?” Spike frowned.

“You strode out ten minutes ago saying you would take care of it.” Angel leaned forward and sniffed the air. “Are you drunk already?”

“I wish.” Spike rubbed his forehead, trying to get the fog to clear. “What bar?”

“Some strip joint you go to. Don’t ask me.” Spike would have smirked at that barely noticeable tone of jealousy if he wasn’t feeling so bloody awful.

“Right. Well, I’ll get on it then.” Just as the elevator was closing he forced the door open again. “Kill it, yeah?”

“No! Not kill it, you idiot! It… _He_ is the son of one of our biggest clients and he’s getting married tomorrow. You’re supposed to make sure he doesn’t sleep with the strippers.”

“Oh. Right. Well, one girl wouldn’t hurt...”

“No! No sex at all, got it? His idea of sex is not… nice. Let’s just say they would end up with holes in unexpected places.”

“Ah. No girls then. Right. Do I have money?” He started patting his pockets as Angel stared at him, a mix of irritation and possible worry on his face.

“I gave… you _insisted_ on getting a card and I threatened to rip your throat out if you spent too much. What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you hit your head?”

“Something like that.” Spike dug into his pockets and pulled out a shiny card and some car keys. “Oh, nice. The Viper. Lovely. See you around then.

The last thing he saw before the door slid shut was Angel shaking his head in exasperation before turning around and heading back to his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time it happened he came to in a dark alley, his leather coat doing nothing to shield him from the pouring rain. His head felt like it was splitting open and he rolled over, emptying the contents of his stomach. Blood and beer swirled around in the puddle he lay in. He could hear people walking by and with a shudder he managed to get to his feet and stagger further into the alley, hands grasping at wet walls and dumpsters, his feet slipping in slimy puddles, swallowing the bile in his throat. Finally he found a doorway where he could hide away from the rain and there he sat for the hour it took him to make the world stop spinning.

When he ventured out of the alley he found himself in a neighbourhood he didn’t recognise. The few dollars in his pocket got him a taxi home. The small basement seemed darker and colder than ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third time it happened he woke up in the big chair in Angel’s office. The one that he loved to sprawl in, the one that he one day noticed had been slightly moved, just enough to give Angel a better view. The realisation made something old and renewed flutter in his chest and ever since then he had made that chair his own, growling at anyone who dared sit in it. They never talked about it, no more than they talked about the smell in the air or the time they spent in comfortable silence when the rest of the gang had retired for the night.

But this time there was no one watching him and with a sting he realised he’d been left there for the night, in what he guessed they had thought was deep sleep. Didn’t know whether he should be irritated that no one had cared enough to wake him up or uncomfortable that someone actually had cared enough to decide he needed his rest.

His limbs were shaky and he stumbled across the hall and into the restrooms, just barely reaching the bowl before his stomach convulsed. The floor felt cold under his knees and after an eternity spent waiting for the world to stop spinning he pulled himself up to sit on the closed toilet seat.

This was not good. This was definitely not good.

Slowly he made his way back to the office and collapsed on the couch where a few hours later he woke up to the smell of warm blood and coffee. And Angel turning his eyes away as soon as he realised Spike was awake, muttering that this wasn’t a hotel. Spike didn't answer, just grasped his mug and drank down the thick liquid, a soft ‘thank you’ floating in his head but never reaching his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next week he hardly left his small damp apartment but sat up in bed, arms around his knees, waiting. Thursday night he came to crouching in a dark alley with no recollection of how he got there. The only thing worse than the taste in his mouth was the twenty-dollar bill casually thrown in the gutter by his knees.

When he saw Angel the next day he couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid that he might see all the filth inside.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few weeks it only got worse. He felt like he was quickly losing his mind. Again. And this time there was no evil entity to blame. The voice whispering inside his confused head told him he was the one doing this. That deep inside he wanted this. Wanted to be degraded and used in such a way because that was what he deserved.

He knew he should tell someone but the truth was he was scared. After all, last time something like this had happened he’d been killing people. And this time he knew he didn’t have the guts to off himself for the greater good. Because this time he had far more to lose. Trouble was, this kept going on he was going to lose it anyway.

Angel's tolerance was reaching its limits. And who could blame him?

He kept looking at Spike with dark eyes, irritation slowly making way for anger and disgust. Spike didn’t show up when he was expected, he often enough returned with an errand unfinished. At meetings he zoned out then suddenly started awake, eyes wild and confused. Spike knew what Angel was thinking but the truth was he hadn’t drunk a drop for weeks. He was feeling enough loss of control without adding that to the mix.

Then one night he woke up in a strange bed, the sound of a shower running behind a closed door. And beside the usual headache and nausea he was feeling pain where he hadn’t let anyone near in over a hundred years. He lay still in shock until he heard the water turned off. Then he scrambled out of bed and pulled on his clothes as quickly and quietly as he could. He slipped out the door just as the bathroom door swung open. The long walk home in the rain did nothing to cleanse him.

Even if he locked his door and hid the key it was only a few nights later that he came to as he was being pounded into a dirty mattress. He freaked out and pushed whoever it was off, grabbed his clothes and ran out. The yell of ‘I haven’t even paid you!’ hit him like a punch in the gut and he had to stop and throw up before shakily pulling on his clothes and running out into the night.

In the pocket of his coat he found several crumbled hundred and twenty dollar bills.

~~~~~~~~~~

“… and the least you can do is try to behave for the few minutes it will take me to talk to these men. Because I’m sick and tired of you…”

The sun shining through the protective glass made him wince and he inhaled sharply then kept heaving for breath, hands covering his eyes.

“… and the way you’ve been lately I just can’t see what purpose you think you have being here at all.”

He swallowed, trying to keep down the nausea. “You’re right. Drop me off here.”

“I don’t care what you… what?” Angel glanced at him, that same frown of confused irritation on his face which made Spike want to punch him or possibly kiss him, he wasn’t sure. “Jesus, you look like shit. Are you gonna be sick? You better not puke in my car because-”

“Drop me off then.” When the only response he got was a deeper frown he grabbed the handle with a shaky hand. “Stop the fucking car, Angel!”

“It’s daylight, Spike. Vampire, remember?”

“Drive into a garage or something then. Just plea…” He folded over as the cramps shook his body and the last thought he had was that Angel would be so bloody angry with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here.”

The hand behind his neck was pushing him up and then a glass of something cool was pressed to his lips. Water. He swallowed and it felt like silk down his sore throat. “Tha… thanks.”

“No problem.”

He was lowered again unto a surface far too soft for his own bed. Fighting against the lure of sleep Spike opened his eyes. The place was lit by a single soft light on the other side of the bed but he recognised it well from his months as a ghost.

“Feeling better?”

Better? Better than what? Being unconscious sure beat this state of utter nausea and headache.

“Yeah. Just peachy.”

He closed his eyes again. Always wanted to slide in between those sheets the nights he hovered in here, watching Angel sleep. The bed dipped and he tensed slightly.

“Not gonna ask what happened?”

Spike opened his eyes warily. “No.” The hand that came towards him made him flinch and close his eyes in fear but there was no sharp blow, just a cool palm resting upon his forehead.

“Jesus, Spike. How long has this been going on? And what the hell _is_ going on?”

“Don’t know.”

There was silence and then the hand disappeared from his face and he could feel Angel standing up abruptly.

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, be like that. I don’t know why I even try…”

Spike sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through his head like a dagger. “I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, all right? I just wake up and I have no bloody idea what’s been going on. I’m not playing anything, Angel.” His voice was shrill but he didn’t care. They stared at each other, Angel’s eyes wary, his own probably half mad. Finally Angel nodded and with a sigh Spike sank back down onto the pillows.

“Tell me then what you _do_ know. When did this start? What do you remember?”

“Three-four weeks ago maybe. I just… I wake up and it’s Hell. My head, my stomach… everything hurts. And I don’t know where I am or how I got there.” He could feel the panic getting a hold on him and he swallowed it down.

Angel sat down again, the dipping of the bed making his stomach do another somersault. “Why didn’t you tell me? Damn it, Spike. I know we have our differences but you shouldn’t hide something like this from me.”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

Spike bit his lip and looked away. “Because it’s not the first time it’s happened. And last time I… I killed. Humans. Many of them.”

Angel was silent. When he suddenly moved Spike instinctively shrunk back, one hand coming up to shield his eyes. But there was no sharp pain or whatever it felt like being staked. Warily he lowered his hand. Angel was looking at him with a faint expression of hurt in his eyes.

“Have you been killing now?” His tone was blank but the voice shook slightly. Zero tolerance. No matter who.

“No! I couldn’t have been. I wouldn’t… Oh god, I don’t know Angel. What if I have?”

“You haven’t smelled of human blood. But…” Angel hesitated and now it was his turn to look away. “You have smelled of humans. Men. I just thought you were…”

Spike stiffened, the nausea once again rising in his throat. “Yeah? Well, not willingly.”

Angel’s head snapped up, shock quickly making way for fury. “Some shit dared to…?” His voice shook.

“I don’t know!” Spike turned his head, staring out into the darkness. The shadows blurred and he blinked to bring them back to focus. “I can’t remember. I just know I’ve been…” He closed his eyes again. “Maybe I wanted it. Maybe-”

“No.” Angel grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “Spike, this is not in your control. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? If I find the fucker who did this I’ll fucking kill him!” The air vibrated with his anger. It made Spike feel almost safe for the first time in weeks.

After a while Angel laid a hand on Spike’s chest hesitantly. “Are you hurt? Besides… you know.”

He swallowed. “Nothing serious. Some cuts and bruises.”

“Can I…? I’d like to look you over if that’s all right?”

Spike tensed but after a while he nodded. His head was finally clearing up, the stabbing pain reduced to a dull ache. Still he felt so very tired and after finally managing to pull the t-shirt over his head the buttons on his jeans proved too difficult. After a few frustrating tries Angel stilled his hands and moved them away. The strong fingers touching his skin made him shiver and Angel looked up, alarmed. Whatever he expected to see it obviously wasn’t the fire that Spike could feel burning in his eyes. They held each other’s gaze for a while but then Spike looked away. He kept his eyes subdued as Angel pulled off his jeans.

Expert hands roamed over his skin and he closed his eyes, the gentle touches doing little to diminish the humiliation. Each time the strong fingers stroked a bruise or touched a cut he had to fight not to push Angel away. Tears prickled behind his eyelids. Could he really sink any lower?

“Can… can you please turn over?”

Seems he could. He rolled over and buried his face in the soft pillows. When Angel hesitantly reached his lower back he couldn’t help wincing. “Angel, please don’t…”

The movement stopped. He lay rigid, breathing raggedly. The hand laid gently on his shoulder startled him and he let out a small gasp.

“Spike, I won’t do anything against your will. But I need to see how much damage’s been done. Will you please let me?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to get up, grab his clothes and run away from there. He wanted to hit Angel for doing this to him. He wanted to scream and bang his own head against the wall, beat the shame out of his mind.

Clenching his jaw he nodded.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t answer, just forced himself to relax. Angel was swift and very gentle but even so it felt like it took a lifetime. When he finally sat back Spike remained lying on his stomach, face pressed into the pillows, the bed beneath him damp with sweat. Angel didn’t speak but draped the cover over the naked body beside him, stood up and walked out of the room.

After a long time Spike finally moved, rolled over to his side and curled up, blank eyes staring at the wall. He could hear Angel bustling around in the kitchen, then the distinct aroma of fresh heated blood reached him. His stomach growled. He couldn’t remember when he last fed. He couldn’t even remember what day it was. When Angel walked into the room he kept his eyes fixated on the wall, unable to meet his eyes. The bed dipped and then a strong hand was stroking his back.

“You need to feed. You’ve become too skinny again.”

Spike didn’t answer but slowly sat up, carefully tugging the cover around his waist. He took the mug offered to him and raised it to his lips with trembling hands. Then he blinked. “This is human.”

“Yeah, well…” Angel seemed embarrassed. “We have an emergency stash. Thought this qualified as one. Emergency, that is”

“But what if… I’m not sure I should-”

“If you turn into a raving lunatic I have chains handy.”

Spike finally looked up. There was a small smile tugging at the corner of Angel’s mouth and Spike couldn’t help smiling back. Chains and blood, essential to every vampire household. “All right then. Wouldn’t want this to go to waste.”

‘Here’s to hoping I don’t get sick and throw it up like everything else I’ve imbibed lately,’ he thought as he took the first sip. Then closed his eyes in bliss as the rich taste hit his tongue. “Oh god, remind me again why I gave this up. Bloody ambrosia, that’s what this is. Female, just over twenty. A tang of red wine and…” He shivered with delight. “Columbian coffee.”

He opened his eyes. Angel was staring at him, lips parted, eyes dark with… Spike looked down. They sat in silence for a moment then Angel stood up and cleared his throat. “Right. Well…Best not let it go cold. Ruins the taste if I have to reheat it.”

He turned around but Spike reached out and caught his arm before he got any further. Angel turned and looked down at him and trying hard to keep his voice steady Spike raised the mug. “We could always share?”

He could see the emotions flicker in Angel’s eyes. Guilt, longing and again that hint of desire that he’d seen earlier. “I shouldn’t. You need it.”

“I’m all right. Besides I’ll probably throw it all up the next time I...” He shrugged.

“There won’t be a next time. I won’t let-”

“Angel, you might be the big hero but you’re not God. If it happens it happens.” He shivered slightly but he didn’t look away this time. Not like he had anything to hide anymore.

“But I-”

“But you can make sure I don’t do anything stupid. All right?” He raised the mug again, pleading with him to take his offering.

Angel hesitated, then took the mug, smiling softly. “Okay.”

Spike watched amused as Angel swirled the thick liquid around in the mug and inhaled the rich aroma, closing his eyes in anticipation. Then he raised the mug and took a small sip.

“Oh Jesus!”

Spike had to suppress the urge to giggle. They were like two teenagers sneaking to smoke pot or watch porn. That image proved too disturbing so instead he nodded and tried to ignore the effect Angel’s blissful face was having on him. “Good, innit?”

“Oh my God, so damn good.” Angel’s eyes glowed golden for a minute before he reluctantly handed the mug back to Spike. “It’s from the firm's blood bank, you know. So it’s not like we are doing anything wrong. I mean, she gave it willingly.”

“Still tastes delicious.” Spike suddenly realised what he said and groaned. When Angel chuckled he looked up and the absurdity of it all suddenly hit him as well and he smiled. “We are two sorry vampires, aren’t we?” He lifted the mug and took another sip. Blond. He was quite sure she was blond.

“Well, we can always imagine she was a kicking and screaming virgin.”

Spike choked on the blood then stared at Angel who had the decency to look away. Still grinning though. “Oh, like you never!”

“Never.” Spike sighed when Angel raised his eyebrows at him. “Well maybe once or twice. A bit hard though, with pigs blood. Although they were probably all kicking and screaming virgins.” He took another sip, then handed the mug back to Angel. “Unlike this one who had sex only a few hours before.”

Angel frowned and took another sip himself, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing. “How do you do that? I mean, I know it’s female and I can taste the wine but…”

“Blood tasting. Dru loved it. Thought it sophisticated. They have great blood tasting clubs in Lyon by the way.”

Angel shook his head in amusement. “One day you’ve got to tell me all the things you two got up to.”

Spike looked at him, wondering if that was a promise of some kind. “One day I might.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, passing the mug back and forth until with a sigh Spike drained the last drops. Angel took the mug and placed it on the bedside table. His face turned serious and Spike could feel his stomach twisting.

“Spike…” Angel seemed at loss and that only made him feel worse. “I don’t know how much you remember but the bruises on your body indicate…” He paused.

“I know.”

“You think you were unconscious while…?”

“No. Seems I negotiated prices and everything.” When Angel went stiff beside him he realised he’d never told him that part. Feeling nauseous he kept on. “Sometimes it was just a blow, I think, but lately…” He was suddenly back in that filthy place, being pounded into the stinking mattress by the nameless human. Fear, humiliation, pain, pain, pain…

“Spike, it’s all right. It’s over. Calm down. Spike! Please! Stop breathing!”

He fought against the arms holding him tight, flailing around until he realised where he was and who it was he was fighting. Then he went completely still and let Angel wrap his arms around him, quiet words soothing him. After a long while he took a deep breath and straightened up and Angel let him reluctantly go. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Angel hesitated before continuing. “You came to while someone was…?”

Spike clenched his jaw and looked away. “Yes.”

“Did he… hurt you? More than…” Angel stopped.

“No. I pushed him off and… he told me he hadn’t paid me.” He could still feel the shock freezing his body.

“Oh God.” Angel shifted beside him but he couldn’t look up at him.

“But someone else obviously had because I found…” Spike swallowed, “... too much money to be only one. A lot more. And I could smell…” The only thing keeping him from throwing up again was the thought of wasting all that wonderful blood. “So many. So damn many. And I let them. I whored myself out like…”

“Spike, stop it. You didn’t do it. Someone or something made you. And I’m gonna find out who the hell that was and fucking kill him.”

“But what if…” Spike took a few deep breaths, then looked up at him. “What if no one did this to me? What if I’m doing it to myself? What if… what if I came back wrong? My mind… maybe I’m just losing it.”

Angel sat silent for a moment, watching him thoughtfully. When he finally spoke his voice was calm but determined. “Then we’ll find out how to fix it. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Spike fell asleep Angel called Wes and explained the situation in as few details as possible.

“I don’t know, Angel. Doesn’t really sound mystical. Maybe we should start with a CAT-scan, see if there’s anything abnormal.”

“Would surprise me if there isn’t.” Angel looked over at Spike and smiled despite his worry. “After all, this is Spike we’re talking about.”

“Quite,” Wes said absentmindedly. “So how do we know how and when he changes? Have you noticed anything?”

Angel frowned. “Actually no. Except he keeps dozing off at meetings and when he wakes up he seems to be very confused. So I guess it’s happened before he shows up.” He paused, suddenly feeling guilty for not paying more attention. “Not like he’s been around much.” And now he felt guilty for not wondering about that. “Maybe it’s not that bad every time. Maybe we’ve just…damn, I don’t know.”

“Can’t say I’ve noticed anything. Except the dozing off part. I just thought he was up all night drinking and gambling or something.”

Angel grimaced since that was exactly what he’d been thinking. Some Sire he was.

“Well anyway, I’ll arrange an appointment with the medical team. And I’ll let the mystical department do a sweep, just in case.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. And sorry if I woke you up.”

Wes snorted. “Not likely. Ten o’clock?”

“Sure.”

Angel hung up, pushing away for now his concern for Wes’ state of mind. One lunatic at a time. He walked over to the bed and looked down at the sleeping body. It had disturbed him more than he liked to admit seeing Spike so vulnerable. He seemed so fragile; thin and sickly. And the cruel evidence painted on his body brought to Angel’s mind such horrifying images that he wanted to rush out and kill something. Instead he carefully lay down on the bed, just close enough to feel Spike breathe.

~~~~~~~~~

Placing the steaming mug on the bedside table he shook Spike gently awake. It had been a hard night in more senses than one. Before Spike went all strange and distant they had been heading… somewhere, he wasn’t quite sure where but it had made his stomach flip in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. His very bright assessment that Spike was fucking around had hurt him more than he cared to admit and now that he’d established that his fears were not quite rightly based he wondered what would happen. Especially since he doubted Spike felt up to anything of such nature. Although there had been that look. And that smell…

“Thanks.”

He blinked. Spike sat up in bed, sipping the blood with a badly hidden expression of disappointment. Back on pig. Well, they couldn’t indulge themselves every day but once in a while maybe. And suddenly Angel had this vision of them sitting before a fire, sipping O+ from crystal glasses. Flames casting dancing shadows upon Spike’s naked skin, a drop of blood running down his chin…

“You all right?”

More blinking. What? Oh. “Yeah. Just… thinking. Erm… towel. Here. For you. If you want to take a shower.”

He nodded awkwardly and escaped out of the room and back into the kitchen where his own mug awaited him. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and gulped the rapidly cooling blood. When the shower went on his mind drifted again, this time visioning Spike’s pale body under the falling water, soap sliding over his skin, hair wet and curly…

“Angel? Where did you put my clothes?”

He looked up, startled. Spike was standing in the door, towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was still wet and yes, curly just like he remembered, and there were drops of water slowly running down his torso.

“Erm… in the wash?”

Spike frowned. “So they’re clean?”

“More like… wet.”

Silence.

“You do realise I have no other clothes with me, right?”

Angel grimaced sheepishly. “I do now.”

Spike glared at him. “So what? I’ll prance around stark naked?”

“Well... No! Of course not.” Angel put down his mug. “I’m sure I can find something that fits you.”

As he passed him Spike let his eyes glide over the considerably taller and, though Angel refused to admit it, bulkier body. “Sure. Whatever.” Even with his back turned Angel knew he was rolling his eyes.

After a long time of rummaging through his closet Angel paused, hesitatingly biting his lip. Then from the top shelf he pulled out a plastic bag and without a word handed it over to Spike who frowned and with a confused look on his face produced a pair of jeans and a soft sweater. They were relatively clean but obviously used and he looked up at Angel for an explanation.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

“No.” He regretted his harsh reply as he saw Spike’s face close off and he sighed. “Not now. Maybe later.”

Spike tilted his head and watched him for a moment, then nodded and turned around. As he picked up the jeans he glanced over at Angel who was standing like in trance, awaiting the show. “Angel?”

“What? Oh. Sorry.” He looked away and started for the door.

“No, I was just wondering… if these belong to someone else maybe I should wear, you know, underwear.” He grimaced. “Blokes can be sensitive about that kind of thing.”

Angel blinked. Suddenly the thought of Spike’s… things wobbling around in Connor’s pants didn’t sound so great. Sounded quite perverted really. “Right. Yes. Underwear.” He opened a drawer and pulled out the first ones he touched. “Here you go. I’ll just be… in the kitchen. Right.”

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Already Connor’s scent was blending in with the image of Spike naked and he felt like the damn deviant his father always accused him of being. He didn’t want to have sex with Connor. He didn’t want to have sex with Spike smelling like Connor. He did however very much want to have sex with Spike. Groaning he rubbed his face in a futile effort to cleanse his brain.

First thing after that examination he was taking Spike over to his place to pick up his stuff. After all, it seemed like he was going to be staying here for a while.

“We ready then?”

Angel straightened and turned around. Oh… fuck.

“What? Stop staring at me like that. I look stupid, I know. They’re too tight and the colours are all...”

“You look great.” Angel felt his face go hot. The fact that vampires were not supposed to blush did little to change the fact that he clearly was. “I mean, it’s just strange to see you wearing other colours than black. Yes. Well, shall we get going?”

As he strode to the door he didn’t dare look over at Spike who followed him without a word. A fact that should have told him something was up. 


	2. Chapter 2

They were both silent on the way down, Angel too lost in his confused thoughts to pay much attention to the vampire beside him. The one that wasn’t fidgeting, wasn’t tapping hyper fingers against the wall, wasn’t uttering a single word. He was actually so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the small movement until the elevator abruptly stopped. He looked up just in time to see Spike take his finger off the STOP button, and like in slow motion he watched him turn towards him, fall on his knees and before he knew what was happening his zipper was being pulled down and… Jesus fucking Christ!

“Oh God! Spike! What are you… oh fuck! Jesus!” He leaned back against the wall, wrapping shaking fingers around the railing behind him. Spike’s tongue was doing unimaginable things to him and then he sucked him inside his mouth and…

Angel looked down at the bleached head bobbing in front of him as his wet cock slid in and out between pink lips. “Oh God, Spike…”

Spike looked up and Angel froze. His eyes were completely blank, like there was no one awake behind them. Oh fuck. For a moment he contemplated letting Spike finish but it was a very short moment and it made him feel dirty enough that his erection wilted a bit. Stifling a groan he pushed Spike away and with much difficulty tugged himself in.

Spike was sitting on the floor, watching him with those creepy blank eyes. “Sorry, sir. Something else you want? I can…” His hands moved to unbutton his own pants.

“No! Nothing. Don’t do anything. Just…” He pulled Spike up to his feet and this close the scent of Connor was overwhelming. Mixed with his own arousal it made his stomach turn. “Just stand still. We’ll be there in a moment.”

He reached out with a shaking hand, pushed the button and the cart resumed its descent. The rest of the journey was spent in silence and, for Angel, in great confusion and shame.

Wes was waiting for them in the examination room, his grey face another reminder of Angel’s failure. “There you are. Spike, I heard you’ve been…”

He stopped short as Spike slunk over to him, graceful like a cat, trailed a finger down his chest and was just about to drop to his knees when Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him up again. Spike’s expression didn’t change but Wes looked shocked and, Angel jealously noticed, even a bit disappointed.

“Ah. I see. You didn’t mention…”

“Does it matter?” The growl was harsher than he planned and Wes took a step back.

“No. Of course not. Well…” At the look on Angel’s face he shook his head vigorously. “No, not at all.” He stepped over to Spike and stared into his eyes for a while, then waved his hand in front of the blank face. “Fascinating. Do you know what triggers it?”

“Triggers?” Angel blinked and then blushed. Again. “Why do you think something triggers it? Maybe it just happens. Like… ping.”

“Ping?” Wes noted absentmindedly, too occupied by the specimen in front of him to notice anything odd. “Perhaps. But last time…”

“You knew about that?”

Wes finally looked up. “Well, yes. Everyone knows about that.” The look on Angel’s face made him smile awkwardly. “Or perhaps not. He didn’t tell you? The First controlled him with this quaint little English ditty. My mother used to sing it for me too, actually. Now how did it go? _‘Early one…_ ”

Angel’s hand clasped over his mouth and he panicked, jabbing his elbow into Angel’s ribs.

“Fuck. What the hell are you doing, Wes?”

Wes glared at him. “What the hell are _you_ doing?”

Angel sighed and rubbed his side. “What if you trigger him again? It’s enough to have him all… horny without turning him homicidal as well.”

Now it was Wesley’s time to sigh in his particular I-must-remember-I’m-talking-to-an-idiot way. “They broke that trigger. And I don’t even know if this is the same kind of thing. I was just wondering.”

“Oh.” Maybe he should get Spike to tell him about it all one day. Or just ask someone else since they all seemed to know everything about Spike better than he did. Hiding his confused feelings of guilt and jealousy he looked around in fake interest. “So how about that CAT scan then?”

Wes eyed Spike warily. “Are you sure it’s okay to do it while he’s like that? Since we can’t really explain to him what’s happening maybe he’ll freak?”

“As far as I can tell he’ll be a lot more compliant like this than he would have been as himself.” That brought up such dirty and infuriating images of Spike being pushed and ordered around by strangers that he had to turn away to calm himself. When he turned back Spike was already lying down and then being slid into the tube and he couldn’t help the twist in his gut at seeing him so… obedient. It just looked so wrong.

For the hour it took he paced around in the small room, intimidating the doctors and irritating Wes with his growls and question of ‘Isn’t it done yet?’ every five minutes. Spike’s legs were sticking out of the device and he kept expecting him to start struggling or cursing. The fact that he didn’t was petrifying. There was a small monitor that showed Spike’s face and he found himself staring at it, waiting for it to twitch or grimace or just… anything. It didn’t.

“There’s nothing. He’s absolutely normal.” Wes frowned. “Well, brain wise anyway. Who’d have thought?” He sighed when the small joke didn’t even bring on a hint of a smile. “Right. Better get him out of there then.” He nodded to the doctors to leave them.

Angel hovered over him like a mother hen when the bed slid out of the tube. Spike just got to his feet and then stood patiently while Wes prodded him and poked, then wrote the disappointingly inconclusive results down on his pad. Finally he stood back and sighed.

“Can’t find anything wrong with him, Angel. Mystical came up with nothing so I guess we’re back to the old fashion hypnosis theory.”

“What? You think someone hypnotised him to do those things? Who would do that?”

“Actually what worries me more is that it was possible in the first place. See, the thing is, you can’t hypnotise people to do something against their will.”

“But he’s been…” Angel paused, not willing to give away too much of Spike’s humiliation. “Why would he behave like that. So…”

“Submissive?” Wes looked over at Spike. A sad look of compassion passed over his face. “Maybe he thinks that’s what he deserves. After all, this soul thing is quite new to him and even if you never went this way he might see it as…”

“Who said I didn’t? Over a hundred years alone and broke, living of rodents and dead beggars… even I had my weak moments. Sometimes all you crave is someone to touch you-” Angel abruptly stopped. Why he was telling Wes this he didn’t know. Maybe because for a short moment he felt like he had his old friend and confidant back.

The silence was deafening. Then suddenly Spike crumbled to the floor and the spell was broken. Angel dropped by his side, trying to revive him but he was completely out. Together he and Wes carried him into the next room and lay him down on a hospital bed.

“I’ll check into the hypnosis thing. See how we can break it. If that’s what it is. I’ve never heard of hypnosis rendering such a harsh reaction though but that could actually be his own mind, punishing him for his actions.” Wes patted Angel awkwardly on the arm but he didn’t even notice, just stood staring down at the very pale vampire that seemed to fade against the white sheets. “Angel?”

“What? Yeah. Sure. I’ll…” He looked down at Spike again. “I’m taking him upstairs. Call me.”

“Of course.”

Wes stood back as Angel scooped Spike up and carried him out of the medical department and into the elevator. If the gentle act seemed odd to him he didn’t mention it.  
~~~~~~~~~~

The splitting headache was so severe that he wished he’d stayed unconscious. Peering out of half-closed lids he scanned the room and immediately relaxed when he saw Angel sitting in the comfy chair, head fallen to the side, drool dribbling in a tiny string down his chin. Spike couldn’t help smiling even if the small movement made his head ache even worse. Then he remembered why he was lying there and the smile faded away.

He had no recollection of what had happened, any more than usual, but knowing that ‘it’ had happened while he was with Angel made him feel a shame so deep he wanted to sink back into oblivion. Had he offered himself to Angel? Had he behaved like the common whore the evidence seemed to indicate he was? There was no fresh pain but that didn’t mean he hadn’t…

And no matter how much he wanted him, wanted him to want him back, he didn’t want it to happen like that. Like they were just a whore and a john, like it didn’t mean anything. Besides, Angel’s cock up his arse was something he wanted to remember. After all, the memory of it being there had stayed with him for over a hundred years.

“I’m not a pervert!” Angel’s flailing around came to an abrupt stop when he realised where he was. Clearing his throat in embarrassment he wiped the drool off his chin and sat up straight, looking over at Spike. “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Spike decided to ignore the pervert thing for more worrying matters. At least for now. “Why? What did I do?” The awkward look on Angel’s face made him groan and he closed his eyes. “You better have paid me decently for it because…”

“Nothing happened. And I wouldn’t pay you anyway.” At the look of annoyance on Spike’s face he added, “Wes on the other hand…”

It felt like a punch in his gut. “No! Angel, I can’t believe it. You fucking told him? I trusted you and you…”

“You kinda dropped to your knees and were about to pull him out when I stopped you.”

Spike suddenly went pale and Angel just managed to put the bucket in place before he vomited over the side of the bed. Afterwards he lay still on his side, eyes closed. His stomach was cramping and he was pretty sure his head would explode.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair. And I didn’t tell him everything. Just that you were…” Angel paused, “…horny.”

“Great. Why don’t you just put me in a room and sell admittance? Could make a pretty penny whoring me out.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then he could hear Angel standing up from the chair.

“I could. God knows there’d be plenty of men, or women for that matter, ready to pay for your pretty mouth and tight ass.” Angel’s voice shivered slightly. “But I rather resent the implication that I’d do such a thing. I’m not Angelus, Spike, no matter how evil you seem to think I am. For what it’s worth you did your best to try to suck me off too and I didn’t let you. And not because I didn’t want you to, believe me I did, but because it would have been wrong. I don’t know what is making you do this but I’m not the bad guy here.”

Spike hitched his breath and opened his eyes in time to see Angel turning away and heading for the door. “Wait!” Angel stopped but he didn’t turn around. His whole body looked tense and angry. Spike sat up, pushing back the nausea. “I’m sorry, all right? I don’t know why I said that. It was stupid. And I know you’re not Angelus. If you were I’d be dead by now.”

When Angel still didn’t look at him he staggered out of the bed and over to him, grabbing his arm to keep himself steady. “Angel… I can’t do this without you.”

Angel turned slowly. His eyes were dark but they weren’t angry. “I’m not going to leave you in a rut just because we had a little spat, Spike. And I can’t really blame you for not trusting me, after all Angelus… _I_ did things even worse than that to you. I haven’t forgotten. Any of it. But things are different now. We are both different now. I would never do that to you. And you would never let me do that to you.”

He turned away again but Spike’s soft voice stopped him. “I would. If you asked me to.”

He stood still, waiting for Angel to start yelling at him again. But instead his head was tilted upwards and he was looking straight into Angel’s eyes. They were like dark pools and the air around them suddenly became heavy. His knees felt weak and he parted his lips, drawing in shallow breaths. He thought he saw a golden flame in Angel’s eyes and then he was pulled tight into Angel’s arms. He forgot everything else as hungry lips claimed his.

Through the buzzing in his ears he felt hands roaming his body, heard sweet words moaned into his mouth, and then he was falling, falling… Suddenly there was a bed underneath him and Angel was hovering over him, such primal need in his eyes that he felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.

“We can’t do this. You’re not well and…” Angel closed his eyes, trying to regain his control.

“I want this. I want you. Bugger it, Angel. Haven’t we waited long enough?”

Angel’s eyes flicked open and he stared down at him. “You’ve been waiting?” He swallowed. “I thought you were just teasing me.”

Spike groaned. “I’m not that cruel. I was just hoping for a sign.” He gasped as Angel ground their erections together. “Think that’s a sign if I ever felt one.”

“Fuck. I want to…” Suddenly Angel rolled off and sat up, hiding his face in his hands. “I can’t do this. Not when you smell like that.”

Spike lay frozen. Then he swallowed. “You think I’m filthy.” He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I am. A filthy whore, tainted by their scent.”

“No! Well, yeah I can smell them but it isn’t that.” Angel hesitated, and then looked up. “I can’t because you smell like Connor. My son. You’re wearing his clothes.”

Spike blinked. “Your son? You have a son?” He looked down at the crumpled jeans and sweater. “And I smell like…” His eyes widened and he shivered in disgust. “Oh God, that’s absolutely perverted!”

“Yes, thank you.” Angel gritted his teeth. “We need to get you some other clothes. And a bath. Preferably in chloride.” He stood up and adjusted his pants. “You feel well enough to go to your place?”

“Since I feel well enough to shag I guess I’ll manage that.” He sat up, swallowed and took a deep breath before standing up. He noticed Angel stayed close by, as if ready to catch him. He reached for his leather coat, then paused. “Erm… thing is, I don’t actually have a bath. I do have a shower though but no hot water.”

Angel was staring at him, unconsciously wrinkling his nose. “How have you been keeping clean? Licking yourself?” His stare suddenly went out of focus and Spike rolled his eyes.

“No, you idiot. I’m not a bloody cat. The hot water only got cut off last week, all right? Apparently I’m supposed to pay some bill.” He scowled. “I’m a vampire. Vampires don’t pay bills.”

“I do.”

“Well, yeah. But you don’t count. After all, you’re a nancy-boy vampire.” He smirked.

“Oh yes. Because I’m the one fainting left and right.”

Spike’s face fell. “Yeah, well… I’ll go home and change then. See you later.” He strode toward the door, duster clutched in his hand.

“Spike, wait! Wait! I’m sorry.” Angel grabbed his arm. “Spike! You can’t go alone!”

That stopped him in his tracks but he didn’t turn around. “I’m not a child, Angel. I can take care of myself.”

“No, you can’t. Didn’t we just establish that? What if you have another episode? What if the next time I see you you’re bruised and broken from your newest john?”

Spike flinched and wrenched his arm free but the pleading in Angel’s voice stopped him again.

“What if there is no next time? What if come morning you walk out into the sun because you can’t remember what you are?”

Spike stood still. He closed his eyes, the leather coat creaking as he clenched his fists. “I’d rather die anyway than…”

Angel slammed his palm flat against the door, making Spike jump. “Fuck, Spike. You’d rather dust than allow me to help you? Do you really resent me that much?” So much hurt Spike could smell it in the air.

Spike slumped, the anger draining out of him. He felt too tired, like the decades were catching up with him and he just wanted to lie down and sleep until the end of time. “I don’t… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I feel so bloody helpless. Doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t control this. I tried. I locked myself up, I stayed awake for days, I haven’t had a drop to drink since…”

“But you didn’t come to me.”

Forget smell, the taste of hurt was coating his tongue. He shrugged, unwilling to give his thoughts away. “I told you why. Besides, I didn’t think you’d care.”

“You didn’t…? Why? I mean… Will…?”

He swung around, his anger flaring up again. “Don’t! Don’t call me that! You have no right to call me that.”

“Wi… Spike. What is…?” Angel rolled his eyes. “Jesus! We almost fucked five minutes ago. And now I can’t even talk to you?”

“That’s right. Fucked. Just like old times, eh?”

Angel blinked. “What? I thought… you said…” He frowned. “Is this about Sunnydale? Look, I know-”

“No! This isn’t about fucking Sunnydale. You never called me Will in Sunnydale! You haven’t called me Will since…” He stopped, breath heaving.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Angel sat down heavily on the bed. “I didn’t think of that. It was all such a long time ago.”

“One hundred and six years, three months and twelve days. And still it seems like yesterday.”

“Spike…”

“Look, let’s just forget it, all right? I need to get clean. I need…” He closed his eyes, his head was starting to hurt again. “Just drive me home, ok?”

~~~~~~~

They drove in silence. When the car stopped Angel got out of the car as well, ignoring Spike’s glare. He tried to keep his face neutral even if Spike’s place of living made him shiver. The neighbourhood wasn’t exactly Beverly Hills, the house was a clear winner of The Ugliness Awards and the small basement apartment… How anyone could live like that was a mystery to him. Okay, so he had from time to time but…

There were no windows, just bare walls. An old bed, a tattered couch, a small second hand TV. He wandered into the kitchen, pretending he wanted to get a glass of water so he could check the fridge. An old Chinese take-out container. Nothing else. No blood, no beer, nothing. No wonder he looked so thin.

“If you’re hungry there are rats in the hall.” The voice was cold and he turned around, feeling guilty. Spike was standing with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt tucked under his arm, glaring at him. “Can we leave now?”

“You’re not taking anything else?”

Spike gave him a cold stare. “Like what? Look around you, rich boy. This is all I have.”

“Oh.” That seemed to be his response to everything tonight. He thought of the dozens of suits hanging unused in his closet. His selection of shoes which worth alone could probably feed a small village. He closed the fridge, leaving the rotting Chinese food standing alone on the shelf. He felt like he should apologise but the look on Spike’s face told him he better not.

The drive back was even more oppressing. In the elevator on the way up to the penthouse they didn’t look at each other. Angel could feel Spike’s anger like electricity in the air and he wished he could reach out and touch him, tell him… What? That he was sorry? Sorry about the past, sorry about Sunnydale, sorry about how things were between them, sorry about how he had ignored him, sorry that he hadn’t known things were so bad…

He stood by the window, watching the city go to sleep outside, listening once again to Spike showering. He felt a strange kind of sadness. The hurt in Spike’s eyes as he talked about the past…

Every time such thoughts had sneaked up on him he’d suppressed them. He didn’t want to think of the past in any way other than regret and guilt. He’d been evil and so the things he did, the feelings he had, they had to be evil as well. Except that thoughts of Will… they made him feel totally different. But he didn’t deserve those feelings. Didn’t deserve…

“Angel?”

He turned around, expecting another verbal Cold War, but Spike didn’t look angry anymore, just tired. And lost. He was only wearing a towel around his waist, the clothes he’d brought with him hanging limp and wet in his hands.

“Spike?”

“They smell. They still smell. I washed them again and again in the sink but I can still…” The clothes fell from his hand and he shuddered. “Do I… Do I smell? Can you smell them on me?”

Angel walked over to him, his heart aching. “No, Spike. You smell good.” He reached out for him and when Spike didn’t flinch back he pulled him into a hug, inhaling sharply. “You smell of moonlight and leather. You smell of my expensive shampoo and my moisturising soap. You smell wonderful. They’re gone. They’re all gone. Not a trace left of them.”

He buried his face in Spike’s hair and closed his eyes, for a short moment allowing himself to go back to a time and place he hardly ever visited without feelings of such strong self disgust that it overpowered anything else he’d ever felt. Spike’s skin was still warm from the shower and drops of water were trickling slowly down his back from the wet curls on his neck. He suddenly became very aware of the thin towel being the only thing that separated them. Embarrassed he tried to let go but as his hands lifted Spike moved his own up and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Angel’s waist.

They stood like that for a long time, Angel’s face buried in Spike’s hair, Spike’s face pressed into the hollow of Angel’s neck. He could feel his neck get damp but there was no sound and no movement. He was starting to get worried when Spike suddenly let go and took a step back, head bowed.

“Erm… Spike? Are you all right? Spike?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh fuck. He reached out and tilted Spike’s head upward. Blank eyes stared up at him. He sighed and stroke his cheek gently. “Why don’t you go lie down, have a little rest?”

“As you wish, sir.” Spike removed the towel, throwing it over the back of the couch before starting to stroke himself slowly. “Will you be joining me soon?”

Oh God. “Not… soon. Perhaps later, all right?”

Blank eyes looked up at him under thick lashes. “Do I not please you, sir? Am I…?” He seemed to falter for a moment before continuing. “Am I doing something wrong, sir?”

“No! There’s nothing wrong.” Except that you’re acting like a whore. And I’m totally getting off on it. “You… please me well enough. I just think you should get some sleep. You seem tired.”

Spike frowned. “If you say so, sir. But my needs do not matter.” He reached out and cupped Angel’s erection, making him shiver. “My only purpose is to please you. Master.”

Angel hitched his breath, he could feel his demon screaming inside. What would it matter? Not like Spike could remember it the next day. No one would have to know. He could make Spike bathe and brush his teeth and…

“It would please me very much if you did as I asked you. Please go in and rest.”

“Very well, sir.”

Spike gave him a last stroke before turning around and walking slowly and seductively into the bedroom, muscles rippling under his smooth pale skin, pausing slightly in the doorway before disappearing inside. As soon as he was out of sight Angel breathed out and sat down heavily on the couch. Sweat was running down his back and he was so hard he thought the thin fabric in his pants would rip from the strain.

He had come so close to losing his resolve. If Spike had insisted, if he had continued his sweet stroking for only a few seconds longer he knew that would have been it. He would have taken him up on his offer, would have made him serve him, would have raped his body, his soul and no one would have been the wiser.

Except him.

Slowly he stood up and walked into the bedroom. Spike was lying on the bed, totally nude, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Angel made himself look away and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He kept the water cold, working fast and angrily, but however much he tried he couldn’t bring up any other images than those of Spike. Spike naked, Spike stroking him, Spike on his knees, Spike licking his cock, Spike calling him master… His release didn’t even bring him real pleasure just eased the pressure for a while. Until Spike made his next pass probably. He groaned and watched his spilling wash down the drain. His water-bill was so going to rocket.

He opened the door carefully, peeking out to see if Spike was still awake. He was. He contemplated for a minute if he could stay in there for the time it would take Spike to do his usual wilting violet act. Of course last time it had taken some hours…

Damn. He’d better get it over with. Taking a deep breath he swung the door open and stepped outside. “Spike…” He stopped. Where Spike had earlier been lying flat on the bed he was now curled up and shivering. “Spike?”

“Did I… Did I do something wrong?”

His words were so similar to earlier that for a moment Angel stood still, not knowing what the situation was. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Spike, are you all right?”

“It hurts.”

He took a step closer. “What does? What hurts?”

“Everything. Everything hurts. What is wrong with me?”

Sighing Angel walked around the bed to the other side and sat down on the edge. “I don’t know. But we’ll work it out, I promise. And we’ll fix it.” He tried to make Spike look at him but he turned his head, hiding in the shadows.

“I could see it, feel it. Your need. And still you didn’t want me. Why? What is wrong with me?” And he finally looked up, eyes still unfocused but filled with confusion, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there or even who he was.

Oh god.

“Spike… there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just… You’re not yourself. It’s a spell or hypnosis or… Fuck, I don’t know.”

“You don’t want me.” Spike seemed to curl up in cramp. “I… I’ve disappointed you, my master. Tell me what I can do to make you want me.”

Angel groaned. “Believe me, I want you. More than anything. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“Then have me!” He whimpered, then started to shake violently. “It hurts, sir! Please!”

“Where? Where does it hurt? I don’t understand.”

“Everywhere! It hurts! Oh god.” His eyes suddenly flew open, staring right at him with perfect clarity. “Angel, please!” Then his eyes glazed over again and all they showed was pain.

He wasn’t sure if it was hearing his name that made him lose it but suddenly he was pinning Spike down, kissing him with a brutal need that shocked him. Spike was clinging to him, kissing him back so hard he could taste blood, small whimpers of pain gradually turning into moans of pleasure.

All that was between them was the towel around his waist and it didn’t take long until that was gone, leaving them naked and pressed together. God, he’d missed this. Missed it more than he had realised. Missed him more than he’d ever admit. All those years alone, endless nights filled with dreams and memories that had him shaking with longing and shame and still… it didn’t even come close to actually having him here, in his arms. Kissing him, touching him, looking at him with these big blue eyes that showed… nothing.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He tried to pull back but Spike held on to him with surprising strength. “Please, sir. I need to serve you. I’ll do anything you want. Please.”

He tried, he tried to say no, tried to pull away, tried to take the moral high ground. But there were tears and there were trembling fingers and above all there was the broken voice asking him to please, please take away the pain. So he gave up and gave in and prayed to God that he wasn’t giving away his only chance of making things right again.

He wanted to cry when Spike sunk on trembling knees down to take him in his mouth. He wanted to yell at him to smirk or swear or do something Spike-like because that’s who he wanted, not this submissive slave who behaved like a common whore, who waited his command, who seemed to have no free will at all. And he wanted to stake himself for loving every single minute of it.

He tried to convince himself it was just a blowjob, it wouldn’t hurt. But when Spike let his wet cock go and crawled up on the bed, lying down on his back and pulling up his knees, waiting for Angel to take him, he didn’t hesitate, just spit onto his fingers and swiftly prepared him before pushing inside.

God, it was so good! He hadn’t been inside another man for so long he’d forgotten how tight it was. So damn tight and so damn fucking good he knew he wouldn’t be able to last. Spike was gasping, eyes closed, fists clenched and wringing the sheets. Sweat was leaking down from his brow and Angel leaned over to lick it away. “God, Spike. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. And when I finally do…” He closed his eyes, unable to look at the pliant body beneath him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry for doing this to you. So very… very… sorry…Oh god... nnghh!!”

When he finally stopped shuddering he opened his eyes. Spike was staring up at him, eyes wide with shock. “Spike?” Oh god. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just…” He rolled off and sat up, shoulders slumped, feeling so ashamed he wanted to crawl into a corner and cry. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know it’s no excuse. I wish…”

“If you offer to pay me I’ll bloody well rip your fucking balls off.”

Angel blinked and turned around. Spike was still lying on his back but he didn’t look shocked or angry or disgusted. Most of all he looked tired and sad. Hurt. Most of all he looked hurt. “Spike, I would never do that. You’re not a whore. I’m the guilty one here, not you.”

“Yeah, well…” Spike stood up and walked gingerly towards the bathroom. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ve had worse.”

“Spike…”

“Don’t. Just… don’t.”

It wasn’t until he’d locked the door behind him that Angel realised that apart from the emotional effect Spike seemed perfectly fine.

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Spike emerged almost half an hour later, again wearing Connor’s clothes, Angel was standing in the living room, once again looking down at the rest of the world. He stood watching him for a long time before clearing his throat but Angel didn’t turn around, just tensed.

“I need money.” He waited for a second but when there was no reply he continued. “I’m not asking because of what happened. I just need it and you have it, that’s all. Don’t have any pride left anyway.” That finally got him a reaction but only in a slumping of shoulders. He didn’t know what he hoped for but with a heavy heart he realised that this was more or less what he had expected. Still he tried. “Not much, just… new clothes, some pints of blood, that kind of stuff. Until I get my life together.” After a while of silence he added, “If you don’t mind.”

Still there was no reaction and he sighed. “Look, I don’t blame you. After all, there I was, naked and practically throwing myself at you. I assume. Not that I remember much of it. If the roles had been reversed… lets just say it would be your arse hurting, not mine.”

“Are you… are you badly hurt?” The voice was so soft Spike could hardly make out the words. Hesitantly he took a couple of steps closer.

“I’m all right. I’ve been worse. And I don’t mean my arse. Angel…”

“I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.”

“I’m not.”

Angel turned around so fast Spike took a step back. “How can you say that? I… I practically raped you!”

“Well, if that’s the only way I can have you I’d rather you do that than ignored me.”

Angel stared at him in shock. “Spike… God! I…”

“And if you say one more time that you’re sorry I’ll punch your fucking face in. Do you have any idea how bloody hurtful it is hearing you say that?”

“What? That I’m sorry for hurting you? For taking advantage of you instead of helping you?”

“That you’re sorry for giving in and fucking me. If this is what it took I’m glad. Too bad I can’t remember much beside the climax but it’s better than nothing. Don’t act like you didn’t know I’ve wanted this ever since I came back. And now I got it. Must say though, you’ve been better.”

He didn’t look away, didn’t waver in any way. Just waited while Angel’s expression changed from shock to shame to hope.

“You don’t hate me?”

“No.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“I can try if you want me to but no, not really.”

“Why?”

Spike sighed. “I just don’t, okay. Can we move on? We still don’t know what makes this happen and I want to find out.”

He turned around, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep the act up much longer. “You coming?”

Angel stood still for a moment, then he grabbed his coat. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“First you're gonna spring for some new clothes. The smell is freaking me out.”

“Right. Yes.”

“And then...” He paused. “I don't know. We've got to think of something.”

Angel pushed the button for the elevator. “We've ruled out medical and mystical reasons. Wes thinks it might be hypnosis. That someone perhaps hypnotised you into doing... these things. If that’s true we could try and find out how to break it.”

They stepped into the elevator as the doors opened. Spike could feel Angel's eyes on him but when he looked up he pretended to be studying the bare wall. Spike shook his head slightly and turned back to his musings. Hypnosis? Dru was an expert on that, even if hers was more of a thrall. She could lure people into doing her bidding, somehow tapping into their subconsciousness and making them believe they were doing it willingly because you really couldn't hypnotise people into doing...

He paled.

“No.”

Angel jerked awake from whatever thoughts he's been indulging in and looked over at him just as the door slid open, revealing the huge garage. “What?”

“It can't be hypnosis. You can't hypnotise people to do something against their will.”

The door started to slide shut again but Angel caught it and held it open, watching Spike with a strange expression. “Spike...”

He shook his head. “No! It's something else.”

He stalked out of the elevator and to the nearest car, for once not caring which one they took. Angel sighed and took keys out of his pocket, jingling them at him before walking over to a black BMW parked a few feet away. They got in and sat in silence for awhile before Angel turned to Spike who was staring out the window, refusing to look at him.

“You wouldn't be aware of it. There's nothing you did to make it happen.”

Spike swallowed. “Except have a strong desire deep inside to whore myself out to strangers, that's what you're saying, right? I wanted this? I wanted to be...” He squeezed his eyes shut as nausea rose in his throat.

“Spike, it's just a theory. We have no idea what it is.”

“But you think it's true.” Somehow that thought made him feel even worse. “You think I want this.”

“Spike, no. I don't think... Look, it could be the soul. Or...”

Spike looked at him incredulous. “The soul? The soul is telling me to whore myself out because...” He stilled. It suddenly became clear. “Because I deserve it. That's it, right? I'm being punished for all the things I did before when...”

Angel averted his eyes. “I don't know. Maybe.”

He felt weak. The realisation pressed heavily on his heart and he felt like he was suffocating. “This is my punishment. This is what I deserve.”

It seemed to take Angel a moment to realise it was put forward as a statement, not a question. He grabbed Spike's arm and turned him his way. “No. You don't deserve this. No one deserves this.”

Spike shook his head. “The things I did... I try not to think of them but... he's right. Whoever is doing this to me. He's right.”

“God, Spike. That's crap. If you deserve this then what the hell do I deserve? Why you and not me?”

Spike rolled his eyes “Not everything is about you, Angel. There are actually those who don't give a flying fuck about who you are and what you did. Sometimes it is about others. Sometimes it is about me.”

Angel let go of his arm and started the car, jaw tense. “Okay, but why? Who would be doing this?”

“I don't know, do I? If I did, would I be sitting here blabbering to you? No, I'd be ripping his balls off and that's just for starters.” He gritted his teeth. “Soul or no soul, he's dead.”

They drove off in silence, blinking as they emerged into the sunshine. It took them some time, but after various wrong turns they finally got to the mall and parked in the underground garage. Angel reached for the door but Spike didn't move, just sat staring out into the badly lit garage where people with bags were hurrying to their cars.

“Spike?”

“Maybe there is no one. Maybe it's just me. My soul, punishing myself.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful.

“I don't think...”

“It could be.”

Angel sighed. “I guess. I really don't know anything about this kind of stuff.”

Spike ignored him, too lost in his own thoughts. “And if it is me the only one who can stop it is me.”

“Well, that should help...”

“Which means it's never going to stop.”

Angel frowned. “Okay, that makes no sense.”

Spike finally looked up, trying to hide the fear he could feel bubbling up inside him. “I don't know how I'm doing this so how will I know how to stop? I won't. It will never stop. I'm going to keep on falling into this trance or whatever and...” He sucked in his breath, his chest feeling way too tight. “Until someone finally kills me or I kill myself.”

“Spike, stop it! We're not even sure what it is yet, any less that it's you causing it. You're planning your own suicide based on nothing but speculations?”

Spike turned to him, his fear making way for anger. “Fuck you, Angel! You think I can even consider going on if this is what my life is going to be like? Like some whore, no, worse than a whore. Whores can walk away. I have no choice, I don't have my own will. I'm nothing! Nothing but some meat for them to stick their filthy dicks into!”

He got out of the car and slammed the door, then leaned onto the smooth roof, breathing heavily. Angel slowly got out as well and stood watching him in silence.

Spike growled. “What? Stop looking at me like that. I'm not-”

“You're not meat, Spike. And you're not a whore, whatever you may feel like right now.”

He snorted. “Right, because I-”

“I'm sorry for what happened earlier between us but I'm not sorry for fucking you. It's not about that. I'd do it again right now as long as you're within your own mind and still wanted me to. But you weren't at the time and that's what makes me the guilty party here.” He didn't shy away from Spike's stare but a tick at his jaw spoke of his discomfort. “You're not the only one that's been waiting for something to happen. I thought maybe we were getting somewhere which is why your behaviour lately was like a kick in the gut. I thought you'd be with just about anyone rather than me and it hurt. Now I know better, Spike, and if you meant what you said earlier then just maybe we still have a shot at letting this work. At letting us work.” He swallowed. “So I'm not going to let you give up. I told you we'd work this out and we will. Now calm down and let’s go shopping.”

He locked the car and walked away, leaving Spike to stare after him completely dumbfounded. He opened his mouth then shut it again and with something akin to a grin jogged after him. They walked in silence for a while, surrounded by laughing teenagers and stressed out mothers. Spike glanced at Angel who was looking at the various shops, a frown of confusion on his face.

“Angel?”

“What?”

“Think that was a record for you. You going to blabber on like that from now on? Because if you are we need to put out a memo or your employees might have a heartattack.”

“Haha. Funny.”

“Just as well you don't need to breathe. I mean, really, what happened to 'a man of few words'?”

“Maybe it's all this time spent with you. Your endless prattling is contagious.”

Spike chuckled softly. “Let's just hope that's all. Really wouldn't know what to do with you if you started spacing out as well. Not that you wouldn't make a pretty whore.”

Angel couldn't help smiling. “We're joking about this now? Well, that's some progress. And I would make the prettiest whore you'd ever seen. No contest there.”

The smile melted off Spike's face and he felt suddenly hot. “You would.”

Angel gave him a coquettish smile that had him flushing even further, a smile that faltered when he noticed Spike's expression. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you all right? You look...”

“Can we just find me some clothes and get out of here?” He walked swiftly into a Levi's shop and gazed along the lines of denim before quickly choosing two pairs. “Here. Pay for these and...” He grabbed a couple of t-shirts. “... these and let's go.”

“Spike...”

“What?”

“We're in the women's section.”

He blinked, then looked around. The salesgirl was staring at them in amused puzzlement and he could feel his face going red. “Fuck!”

“They might still fit...” Angel looked down at the clothes Spike had dumped in his arms. “Sure you want the t-shirt to say 'Angel' though, in pink glittering letters?” He was trying very hard to suppress his smile.

“You? Shut the bloody hell up.” Spike grabbed the clothes and threw them on a nearby table. Then he shrugged off his leather coat and placed it gingerly in Angel's hands. “And take care of that. You!” He stalked over to the girl who was now looking more worried than amused. “Find me some proper jeans. Now!”

She looked him over then her face lit up. “I know just what you need.”

“I very much doubt that,” he muttered but followed her anyway, leaving Angel standing with an uncomfortable hard on in his own pants as he watched Spike's ass wiggling away in Connor's jeans.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting on a low thing that probably was supposed to be a chair, dozing off to the annoying music of Britney Spears when he heard a soft giggle, followed by Spike's unmistakable flirting voice, murmuring some sweet words into the girl's ear. Scowling he opened his eyes, ready to tell him off, and caught his breath.

“... so then I told Billy: Listen mate, I said, if you like it so much it's all yours. Should have seen his face, all lit up like a Christmas tree. Well, that's not the only thing that went up...”

“You are such a liar! You are! Wait 'til I tell my mom, she just loves Billy Idol.”

“Who doesn't love Billy Idol? He's good enough to eat. Actually-”

Angel managed to shake himself free from his stupor just in time. “Spike!”

Spike turned around and gave him a wicked grin. “There you are. Thought you'd split and left me with the bill. Be a good boy now and pay the pretty girl what we owe her.” He bent over to pick up his coat, the movement giving Angel a perfect view of just how well the snug jeans fit him.

“You...” He swallowed.

Spike straightened up and gave him a worried look. “What? You said it was all right. I'll pay you back if you want.” He turned away, the good mood turning into anger. “Not like it's your own money anyway, is it? Blood money, that's what it is.”

Angel opened his mouth but shut it again and went to pay for the clothes. Two pair of jeans, one faded blue and one black, two t-shirts, one black and one red, and one soft sweater. At least it looked very soft where it clung to Spike's slight frame, showing the muscles flexing underneath.

“You're so lucky! Wish my boyfriend was built like that.” The girl sighed dramatically and handed him the bag as he stuck out his credit card.

“He's not...” He stopped. Just pay and leave.

“And here are his old clothes.” She handed him another bag along with his card and he tugged it under his arms and signed the receipt.

“Thank you and have a _nice_ day.” She winked and he could feel himself blushing.

“Er... thank you.”

He didn't even notice the amount - what did it matter anyway – just put his wallet back in his pocket and gave her a nod before turning around, searching for Spike. He was hanging outside the shop, still scowling, hands thrust into the pocket of his new jeans. He didn't look a day over twenty.

Angel swallowed. His own pants were suddenly way too tight. Self-conscious he glanced down and for the first time noticed how out of place he looked in there, wearing his office suit. Had he started wearing these things all the time now? God, he felt old. He probably looked way too old for Spike.

Taking a deep breath he walked over and gave Spike an awkward smile. “You need anything else?” Seeing the look on his face he added quickly, “Not my money, right? Might as well spend it.”

Spike looked at him warily then shrugged and bit his lip. “Don't know. Am I staying with you?”

“I think you better, at least until we know what's going on and how to handle it.”

Spike nodded slowly, still gnawing at his lip. Angel wondered if he'd mind it very much if he'd took a bite as well.

“Can I smoke?”

“Think this whole mall is a non-smoking zone.”

“No, I mean...” He averted his eyes. “Can I smoke at your place? Haven't had a fag in weeks.”

“Erm...” On the one hand he didn't really approve of smoking, on the other hand... Spike smoking was sex incarnated. “Sure. You need money for cigarettes?”

Spike nodded, still not looking at him.

“Well...” Angel pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet. “This enough?”

Spike's hand trembled slightly as he accepted the money. “Yeah. Thanks.” He turned away, shoulders slumped.

His subdued manner stopped Angel in his tracks and he grabbed Spike's arm, turning him against him. Shit, was he...

“Spike?”

But the blue eyes looked up at him, clear and bright. “What?”

“Oh. I thought maybe...” He let go of Spike's arm. “Are you all right? You seemed so... I thought you were ill again.”

Spike looked away for a moment then turned his eyes at him, swallowing. “Look, this isn't easy for me, all right? Being dependent on you. And you're not making it any easier, handing out your pittance like I’m your bloody servant.”

“I don't...” He ran the last minutes through his head. “Okay, I didn't mean to demean you but I guess I did. I'm sorry.”

Spike shrugged and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “Forget it. It's what I am anyway. A beggar. Beats being a whore.”

“Will you just... Stop it, Spike. I'm not giving you money or a place to stay out of pity. I'm doing it because I want to and because, as you rightly put it, I have it and you don't. It's logical.” He pulled out his wallet and whipped out five hundred-dollar bills. “Here. Consider it a late payment from W&H for all your hard work in keeping their CEO on his toes.”

Spike looked for a minute like he was going to be offended but then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he took the money and stuffed it in his pocket. “Oh, they owe me a lot more than that. And don't forget me helping in beating up their less popular clients and all those late office hours guarding that place.” At Angel's incoherent look he rolled his eyes. “Ghost, remember? No spot in that building I haven't seen.” He turned around and swaggered down the aisle. “Including your bathroom.”

What? “My what!?!” Angel hurried after him, the memory of more times than he could remember spent jerking off in the shower making his walk a tad uncomfortable.

Two coffees and a chili dog later they were walking through the garage to the car when Spike suddenly stopped and blinked in confusion.

“... and maybe Wesley can find us a hypnosis expert who...” Angel frowned and turned around. “Spike?”

He was gone.

“Spike?” Quickly opening the car and throwing the bags inside Angel ran back around the corner. Shit! Spike's smell lingered in the air but it was faint, the clothes being new and himself freshly showered. No soap or fabric could really blot out the distinct scent though and Angel hurried after the trace, feeling increasingly worried.

Obviously Spike was off again and Angel was sure there had been no trigger, nothing he'd said that he hadn't said many times before. A pack of teenagers crossed his path, then an annoying group of elderly citizens that moved too slow and kept getting in his way. When he finally made it through he'd lost the trail.

For an hour he searched the mall, sometimes imagining he was picking up a scent but then it disappeared again and he was just as lost. Fuck! There were too many exits, to many ways he could have gone. Finally he had to admit defeat and return to the car, his head filled with thoughts of what Spike would be doing right now. Or more specifically, what was most probably being done to him. All the stores had closed by now and a security guard was locking up the building, nodding at him as he got into the elevator that would take him down to the garage.

There were only a couple of cars left, his being on the further side of the vast lot. He was half running to it when he heard a low grunt, followed by some laughing. He stopped and turned, trying to hear where the noise came from. After a moment he heard a low sob and he could feel his hands curling into fists as he hurried as quietly as he could in the direction it came from.

There they were, on the other side of a dark corner. Two stood by, laughing and tucking themselves in, while the third one had Spike pinned to the wall, violently thrusting into him, one fist twisting his hair as the other hand held his victim still. Spike's face was turned his way but he didn't seem to recognise Angel as he came running towards them, his eyes being blank and dull.

“Get the hell away from him!”

“Hey man, fuck off. If you want in you have to pay...”

The garage echoed with the crunch of the two heads being smacked together and the third one stumbled away from the wall, his pants around his ankles, leaving Spike to sink to the dirty floor, blood running down his thighs. “What are you-?”

Angel punched him so hard he crashed into the wall and sank down like a heap of meat and bones by Spike's side. His cock was still hard with traces of blood around the root. The condom was hanging out of Spike's ripped anus, having been left there at the swift retreat of its bearer. The sight made Angel roar and he kicked the perpetrator in the face, feeling cruel satisfaction when he heard the nose break under his boot. He wanted to rip the sick fuck's cock off and shove it up his ass but a low whimper made him snap out of his anger and turn to Spike.

“Angel?”

Spike's eyes were filled with horror and he pulled him into his arms, rocking him gently. “It's okay. I've got you. I've got you.”

The thin body shuddered and he managed to turn him just before it convulsed, vomiting a mixture of blood, coffee and chilidog onto the other man's lap. Well, that was something. When the cramps had subsided he pulled Spike to his feet, discreetly tugging out the condom and throwing it in the unconscious man's face before pulling up Spike's pants and lifting up his face. “It's okay, I'm taking you home.”

There was no answer. Spike was already out cold.

\----------------------

“I don't care. We have to find some way to stop this.”

Wes sighed. “Angel, it's not that I don't want to, I just don't know...”

“Well, figure it out! If this was Fred...”

Wesley's head snapped up and he stared at Angel with such venom that he took a step back. “You... bloody bastard! This _was_ Fred! A few weeks ago this was Fred and you... _you_ couldn't save her! And you have the nerve to accuse me of...” He shook his head in disgust, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Angel hunched and bowed his head in guilt. “I'm sorry. I spoke in anger without thinking. I apologise.”

Wesley stood still for a minute and then he looked up, smiling stiffly. “It's... it's all right. I understand. It's just... I'm not slacking, Angel. I know how much he means to you and I'm doing the best I can.”

Angel blinked. Then he awkwardly looked away, hands fidgeting. “What do you mean, you know?”

Wesley's smile was patient if a bit irritated. “For what it's worth I'm glad you decided to stop hiding it. It was becoming quite embarrassing for all of us trying to act ignorant.”

“Ignorant of what? Hiding what?” Angel tried to look indignant even if he suspected the pout was rather overkill. “I wasn't hiding anything.”

“Oh for God's sake, Angel,” Wes snapped at him. “Don't start that again. I'm not in the mood for playing games. We're all adults here and fairly educated in vampire ways. Or human ways for that matter. I don't know why you always have to act so juvenile when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“I don't know what...” The glare Wes shot Angel shut him up and he looked down, swallowing. “So, you all know?”

“Yes, Angel. Everyone knows. From the moment he came it's been obvious. As soon as he got corporeal the bets started flying. Some even before.” Angel's obvious embarrassment brought the small smile to back his lips. “May I inquire if you've yet...”

Angel could feel his face heating up. “No, you may not!”

“That recent? Really?” Wes took up a small notebook from his pocket. “Charles is going to be very pleased.” He ticked off a line and then scribbled a few words down.

“And you call me juvenile!” Angel fought the urge to snatch the book away and see what he was writing. “Can we stop talking about my sexlife and get back to protecting Spike's?”

Wesley sighed and snapped the book shut then stuffed it back into his pocket. “The only thing I can think of is having him hypnotised and see if that gives us any clues to who or what did it to him originally.”

“You think that will work?”

“It might. I really don't know. Hypnosis isn't what you'd call my area of expertise.” Wes hesitated a moment. “You know, once under he will quite probably reveal what's been happening to him these last weeks. Anything you want to tell me before we start? Might make things easier.”

Angel stood still, staring out of the window. “He agrees with you. He thinks the soul is doing this to him to punish him for his past.”

Wesley frowned. “Would be an odd way. Sex isn't really an unpleasant punishment.”

Angel's shoulders tensed. “It's not sex. It's... solicitation.”

Wesley went still. “Ah. So he's been...?”

“Yes.”

“Unknowingly? And I guess unwillingly.”

“You don't whore yourself out for fun, Wesley.”

“No. Of course not.” He paused. “With strangers?”

“Yes.”

“And... and you?”

Angel's neck was so tense he thought it might snap. “Yes.”

Wesley nodded, careful not to look at him. “Did you... take him up on his offer?”

Angel stood still, staring out of the window. Then he slowly sank down to the floor, his back up against the couch as he hid his face in his hands. “Yes. God, yes. I tried... but he begged me. Like he needed it. Like not being used hurt him more than...” He shook his head. “But there's no excuse. I'm just as bad as those bastards who... Worse. Because I knew and I still did it. Still...” He laughed hoarsely. “At least they paid him.”

Wesley took a step forward, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. “But they don't love him.”

“If you're trying to make me feel worse you're doing a great job.”

Wes sighed. “Counselling wasn't really my area of expertise either.” He studied Angel's guilty face. “Does he blame you?”

Angel shook his head. “He said he'd rather I raped him than ignored him.”

Wes visibly flinched. “You... Did you?” His voice was barely audible.

“He wasn't within his right mind. He wasn't there to say no. What else would you call it?”

Wes swallowed. “Quite. Did you... hurt him? Physically, I mean.”

“Less then I used to. More than I should have.” Angel raised his head, blank eyes staring out into the dark. “Ever been taken there, Wes? First time it's... very tight.” He looked up at Wesley's flushed face. “We're vampires. We don't change. Every time is the first time. So yes, it hurts. At least at first.” He looked away again. “Usually we like it that way.”

“And...” Wes averted his eyes. “And did Spike... like it?”

“That's just it.” Angel studied his fingernails. “Spike would have loved it. But the man I took... I don't know and frankly, while I was fucking him I couldn't have cared less.” He swallowed. “I lost control. If he'd come to in the middle of it and told me to stop I don't think I would have.”

“Yes, you would.”

Wesley jumped startled to his feet and turned around but Angel sat still, not even looking up. Spike stood in the doorway, face grey and drawn, thin arms hugging his chest. Only a moment and then he relaxed and started towards them.

“Spike, I...” Wes blushed but Spike didn't even seem to notice him, just walked right past and knelt by Angel's side.

“Maybe not Angelus but you, you would have stopped. Not that I would have asked you to. I meant what I said, Angel. I wanted it, been wanting it for a long time.” He ran his fingers gently through the bristled hair. “Next time I'd rather be there from the beginning though.”

Angel finally looked up at Spike who smiled softly before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. As the kiss deepened and they moved closer until they were locked in each others embrace, Wes quietly slipped away, closing the door silently behind him.  



	4. Chapter 4

An hour later Spike lay on his back, smiling softly as he watched the smoke from their cigarettes rise up to the ceiling. “Now that was a whole different experience.”

Angel chuckled. “Having been present for both events I must agree.” He turned on his side, breathing smoke into Spike's hair. “I'd rather fuck you than that other guy any day.”

“Yeah?” Spike grinned. “No good, was he?”

“Well...” Angel reached over to snuff out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Technically he was fantastic.” He let his fingers crawl up Spike's chest. “All the right moves, not to mention those delicious sounds.”

Spike stiffened slightly. “Is that so?”

“Moaning, whimpering, begging... like music to my ears. But...” He grabbed Spike as he made to roll out of the bed, looking quite pissed off. “But emotionally there was nothing. There was no one there.” He kissed Spike's scowling mouth, hand tight on the back of his neck to keep him from going as he held his glare with a steady eye. “You weren't there, Spike.”

Spike growled but he settled down again, smoke blowing out his nostrils. “I'm not going to whimper for you, you wanker. Or beg.”

“Not even if I do...” Angel leaned over, flicking a perky nipple with his tongue. “... this?”

“Hey! That's... You're cheating!” Spike swallowed a gasp. “And I'm still not whimpering.”

He closed his eyes as Angel continued licking and sucking his nipples until they were hard and blushing red, lips set tight to make sure not a sound escaped. The hand sliding down his abdomen made him falter for a moment and when he raised what little remained of his cigarette to his lips his hand shook slightly even if his face held the same cool expression. Slowly he reached over and put the stub out in the ashtray before leaning back on the pillows, eyes closed once again. A tremble ran through his body when his cock was swallowed by the cool mouth, a sharp intake of breath breeched the air when his knees were pushed up and apart but it wasn't until Angel slowly slid home that he gave in to the whimper lodged in his throat.

Not that it really mattered since Angel couldn't hear him for his own moans.

\----------------------------------

“I don't like this.”

Spike stood stiff, arms folded protectively on his chest, his eyes narrow and suspicious.

“Don't like people messing with my head, snooping around in my brain. What's with you Watchers anyway and your compulsive need to pry into other people's privacy?”

Wesley sighed and leaned against the desk, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. “Look, we've tried all else and this is the only thing I can think of that might tell us what's going on. And for what it's worth I have no particular interest in hearing what thoughts you keep in your head, Spike, however fascinating I'm sure they are.”

“I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Percy. What I keep in here...” He tapped his head angrily, “... is private. My thoughts, my feelings, my bloody memories. Not for just anyone to hear.”

“But...” Wes looked over at the wary man sitting behind a glass window in the other room.

“He can hypnotise me, all right. But you're not listening in, any of you. Put your questions on tape or feed the computer, I don't care. But only I get to hear my answers.”

“But if we can't hear your answers how do we know what to ask for?”

“That's your problem, not mine. You're not listening and that's final.”

“But surely Angel can-”

“No! Especially not him.” Spike turned to the window, watching the hypnotic who was looking more nervous by the minute. “I mean it, Wesley. There are things... He shouldn't know about them, all right? And I'm not saying this for my sake. I don't care how he sees me but-”

“Bollocks.”

Spike turned around, frowning at the annoyed expression on Wesley's face. “What?”

“Of course you bloody care. Christ, what is it with you two? For all the years you've got between you you're both acting like a couple of teenagers. For god's sake just tell him you love him and get it over with.”

“What?” Spike stared at him, a hint of colour dotting his cheeks. “What the bloody hell are you on about?”

Wesley rolled his eyes and started pacing the small room, hands emphasising his words with wild gestures. “Do you know what I would give to have just one more day with Winifred? Months, no years, I wasted because I was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt.”

He stopped and turned to Spike, eyes almost feverish. “You think you have forever but you're wrong.” The stake was out and pressing into Spike's chest before he could blink. “Just like that you're dead and it's too damn late to say anything. Anything! One moment he's there and the next he's dying in your arms, begging you to please, please don't let him die. And then she does anyway and all you have left is vaults of whatifs and whys and not a moment goes by that you don't blame yourself for not dying in her place.”

Spike stood still, the sharp point of the stake pressing hard enough into his chest that he could feel blood trickling down his skin. Just one quick movement and he'd easily have Wesley slumped against the wall, broken nose or neck. The stake trembled slightly, the tip pressing further into the wound but he only gazed calmly into the wild blue eyes until they finally blinked. Wes sucked in his breath, the stake fell to the floor with a clatter and he stepped back on shaky legs. Spike kept his eyes steadily on him as he reached down and picked up the stake, slipping it into his own pocket.

“You all right there, mate?”

“I...” Wesley swallowed and shook his head in bewilderment. “Spike...”

“What's going on here?”

Spike raised his hand to stop Angel from coming closer. “It's all right. The Watcher is just feeling a bit tired. Maybe you should lie down for a bit, eh?”

“No, no I... I need to work. We have to... Yes. I'll go make those questions now. You... Yes. I'll be right back.” Wesley turned and walked out of the room, a slight look of confusion on his face.

“What was that about?”

“Think maybe I'm not the only one losing my mind. You should get him some help before it's too late.”

Angel frowned. “Wesley? He'll be fine. He just needs some time to get over-”

“Losing the love of his life?”

That made him wince. “Well...”

“Get him help, Angel. Soon.” Spike turned and walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“You heard him. There's work to do.” Spike pulled a fresh packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “You coming?”

“All right.” Angel followed him, rolling his eyes as Spike lit up under the No Smoking sign. “Where to?”

“Well, according to the expert I should be 'calm and relaxed'.” Spike tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow. “So I was thinking JD and fags down at the pub and then you could fuck me in the alley. How does that sound?”

Angel smiled. “Too much fun to qualify as work.”

“Angel, luv, you obviously haven't been working in the right places.” Spike blew smoke into Angel's face and gave him a wicked smile. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was working at a club in Paris? Okay, maybe working is an overstatement but...”

Angel's growls echoed in the halls as they disappeared into the elevator.

\----------------------------

“I don't like this.”

Angel's words echoed Spike's earlier as he stood up once again and paced the room before settling in front of the glass window, watching as Spike's body became slack and limp where he lay on the bed.

“This is what he wanted and we should respect that.”

“Still...”

“Would you want someone listening in on your most inner thoughts?”

Angel stiffened. “No.”

“Right then. We're supposed to count down from fifty before starting the recording. The first question will come in ten seconds and then there's a sound sensor that will control when the others will follow.”

They watched the hypnotic check Spike over before giving them a thumbs up and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Right.” Wesley clicked the timer in his hand while Angel counted silently in his head. As he reached fifty Wesley stood up and pressed some keys on the computer before turning towards the door. “Angel? Are you coming?”

He hesitated, eyes fixated on the slack body on the other side of the glass. “I think I should stay. Something might go wrong. And it's not like he will know...”

“I'll tell him.”

Angel turned and stared at him. “You wouldn't.”

“Of course I would. I promised him. Now are you coming or do I have to call security?”

They stood glaring at each other for a moment but then Angel sighed and followed Wesley out of the room. Just as he closed the door he heard a low soothing voice: _'I'm going to ask you a few questions now, Spike, if that's all right. How are you feeling?'_

The answer was too low for him to hear.

\----------------------------

Angel slammed the mug down on the table, making drops of blood spill over the edge. “He's been in there for two hours now. How many fucking questions did you ask him?”

“Not that many.” Wesley took out his handkerchief and absentmindedly wiped up the splatters. “Calm down. You saw for yourself that he was fine. He's probably just taking notes, trying to figure things out. He'll come out when he's ready.”

“I don't like this. I should be in there with him. Who knows what horrors he's reliving?”

“No one except him. That was the whole point, Angel. Now sit down and stop growling.”

“I'm not...” Angel growled but sat down anyway. “What if we don't get the answers we need? What if you didn't ask the right questions?”

“Then he'll tell us what's missing and we do it again.”

“But-”

“Shut up, Angel! Just sit still and shut up!” Wesley closed his eyes and shook his head. “Just please shut your mouth.”

“I'm still your boss.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

Wesley laughed, a hollow sound that made Angel wince. “Really? Well, if you don't like the way I do my job you can fire me. Again.”

They sat in silence for a moment but then Angel reached forward and lay a hand on Wesley's arm. “I'm sorry. For everything. Do you think...? Maybe you should talk to someone.”

Wesley stiffened and wrenched his arm away. “I'm fine. What is there to talk about anyway? She's gone. Talking will not bring her back.”

“No, but it might keep us from losing you as well.”

For a moment it looked as if Wes would break down but with a shudder he straightened up and looked right at Angel. “I'll be fine. Thank you for your concern but it's quite unnecessary. Now, if it helps I can let you see a list of the questions I asked him.”

Angel contemplated pressing Wes further but his curiosity got the better of him and he nodded and with obvious relief Wesley pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to him. He read them quickly over, the frown deepening as he got further down the list.

“Was that really necessary, asking him about us?”

“I thought so, yes. These weren't just designed to find out who did this to him but also _what_ it's doing to him. Your relationship probably plays the biggest part in that.”

Angel looked up at him, eyes wary. “Are you saying that what we've been doing is a result of what is being done to him?”

“No.” Wes watched him calmly. “But you both seem to think so and I thought if you can't figure it out for yourself maybe his answers might help at least him seeing things for what they are.”

Angel looked away. “But what if you're wrong?”

“Then, after we have found a way to break him out of the thrall, you can try again and if nothing happens then it was just the hypnosis mixed with your unstable hormones and you can both stop behaving like lovesick puppies and get on with your lives.”

Angel stared at him. “You're mocking me.”

“Yes.”

That brought on a small smile. “Well, I'm glad to see some things haven't changed.”

Wes opened his mouth to answer but shut it again as Spike walked into the room, folded sheets of paper clutched in his hand. He was paler than usual and when he sat down and lit his cigarette his hands trembled slightly. He took the half-full mug of blood and drained the liquid down before placing it back on the table.

Angel reached for Spike's hand but he moved it away and Angel drew his own back, swallowing his feelings of rejection. “Well?”

“Well, that was a ball. Haven't had so much fun since Pavayne.”

“Did you find out anything useful?”

Angel glared at Wesley for his insensitivity but Spike seemed relieved at the direct question. He unfolded the paper sheets, careful not to let Angel see what was written on them.

“A bloke called White. David White. Seems to think I killed his daughter, Dinah, last year. Sixteen. Blond. Pretty. Daddy's little girl. All his enquiries led back to me. Could be right, I didn't really bother learning their names.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, autopsy report shows she was raped repeatedly both before and after she died. Guess he thought this might be the perfect punishment for me.” Spike sucked on his cigarette before continuing. “If my subconscious remembers correctly I was supposed to go insane and then hopefully kill myself.” He folded the sheets again, not looking at either of them. “That's about it.”

Angel sat perfectly still, watching him. Spike's face was blank but there were drops of sweat at his temple and his lower lip was twitching.

Wes nodded and stood up. “We'll find him. You should rest.”

Spike didn't answer and Wes quietly left him and Angel to sit in silence. After a while Angel cleared his throat.

“I don't suppose I need to tell you this but it wasn't your fault. That girl. You weren't in control off yourself.”

Spike shook his head. “What does it matter? It could as well have been because of a girl I killed before the chip, before the soul. Makes no difference.”

“Of course it does!”

“No, Angel. It doesn't. So I can't even remember killing her. Raping her.” He closed his eyes. “I can still remember countless of others. Are they worth less than her?”

“No, but-”

“That's all that matters.”

Angel growled in frustration. “So what? You're just going to give up? Because you deserve it?”

“I never said that. If he'd just killed me I wouldn't complain.” He chuckled softly, a sad hollow sound. “Well, obviously. You know what I mean. A life for a life, yeah? But this... Maybe I do deserve it. Maybe there's no maybe about that. But it's not honourable, you know? It's not... right. If he wants me to suffer he should do it himself, not let others do his dirty work for him. What if I'd gone bonkers and killed one of my 'clients'? He risked other's life just so he would be able to take out his revenge.”

Spike looked up, a yellow glint in his eyes. “And that's just not on. You don't do that. So I say we find him and make him take this away and if he still wants me dead he can bloody well fight me himself. Which, seeing as he's a scrawny little weasel with more brains than muscles, probably won't end well for him so I hope he sees enough sense to just sod the bloody hell off.”

Angel scowled. “I want to kill him.”

Spike smiled. “Yeah well, you can't. We don't kill humans, remember?”

He shook his head. “There are exceptions.”

Spike watched him for a moment then he lowered his eyes, staring down at the cigarette slowly smouldering between his fingers. “What would you do to the man who raped and murdered your son, Angel?”

There was silence for a long time.

“I murdered him.”

Spike's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What?”

“Connor. My son. I killed him. It was part of the deal of coming here.” Angel kept his voice steady but he could feel sweat running down his back. “He died and so got a new life, without memories of anything that had happened before, and in return I took over Wolfram and Hart.”

Spike was silent for a moment. “Those must have been some nasty memories to make you do that.”

“Yes.”

“And he's happy now?”

Angel swallowed. “That boy that came here the other day? That was him.”

Spike nodded slowly, a look of sudden understanding in his eyes. “Seemed happy enough.”

He sucked in his breath. “Yes. I think so.”

“Then I guess it was worth it.”

Angel stared at him for a second and then breathed out, his whole body seeming to relax in relief. “I guess it was.”

They both smiled as if an invisible hurdle had been tackled and overcome.

“You look tired. You should get some rest.”

“Maybe. I feel a whole century older. Well, at least a few decades.”

“Do you want to talk about...?”

Spike shook his head. “Not now. Maybe later.” He looked up. “Except, I want you to know... if I go... odd again, it's okay. With you, I mean. I don't mind.” He dropped his eyes, tapping the last ashes off his cigarette on the table then drawing patterns with the dead end into the grey dust.

Angel sat still. His thoughts flickered from memories of yesterday's pliant Spike moaning underneath him to that morning's bossy Spike, impatiently pushing him back on the bed and tugging at his belt as he kissed his mouth with desperate passion. “I do.”

Spike raised his head, his face drawn and tired. “Angel, I heard what you told Wes. I was begging you, crying with pain because you didn't want to touch me. I practically forced you. So next time, just do it. It's okay. I don't want you to feel guilty about giving in.”

“Want me to...” Angel shook his head in frustration. “It's not about me, Spike. You were right, for once this isn't about me at all. So don't tell me it's okay, it's far from okay. You were nothing like yourself. You were like a slave, wanting only to please me, ready to follow whatever order I gave. That is not the Spike I want.”

Spike held his gaze. “But you loved it.”

“No! Well, yes, but...” He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the same shame from the night before wash over him. “Yes, I did. It made me feel more powerful than I've felt in a long time and... to tell the truth that was a rather frightening feeling. To realise I still had that in me, the desire to own someone, body and soul, with no regards to their feelings, their well-being.”

He opened his eyes when his hand was squeezed reassuringly by slender fingers. “Angel, even if I were a mindless beast, shackled and licking your feet, you'd still care. Christ, I've had all kinds of things shouted at me during climax but I think you're the first one to sob out a plead for forgiveness while shooting your load. Not exactly Master behaviour.”

Angel stared at him, the half-grin on Spike's face shocking him almost more than the words. “I did that?”

“You don't remember?”

“After, yes. During, no.” A smile started tugging at his lips. “Guess finally getting some decent sex blew my mind out for a second or two.”

“I guess so.” Spike tilted his head and pursed his lips. “Eve was no good then?”

“Are you kidding me? That was over so quick it was hardly worth taking my clothes off. Plus, once the spell wore off I did my best to forget that ever happened.” He shuddered. “See, you're not the only one that's been violated against their will since coming here.”

Spike grinned. “You didn't look very traumatized, luv.”

Angel gave him a stern look. “Do you know how long it had been since I had sex? Almost two years! My soul may be scarred but my cock was doing the damn conga.”

“Two years!” Spike shook his head in amusement. “I'm beginning to think I should take pay after all. Saving Wolfram & Hart from having to pick up the pieces of their CEO's blown up balls in the near time future. It's an exhausting job, satisfying hundred years of built up sexual tension.” He yawned. “No wonder I'm so bloody tired.”

Angel pulled him in for a quick kiss before standing up. “Let's get upstairs then. I feel rather tired myself.”

Spike quirked his eyebrow at him. “Is that right?”

“Oh yes. I definitely need to lie down.”

“Sleeping during the day now?” Spike chuckled. “Maybe you are a real vampire after all.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?”  



	5. Chapter 5

Spike half-opened his eyes, peering tiredly at the still dark windows before closing them again, pulling the coat tighter around him. “Maybe he's gone on holiday.”

Angel looked over at him, absentmindedly reaching out to straighten the collar of his coat. “Maybe you should have stayed home. Those damn episodes exhaust you.”

“I'm fine. Didn't even throw up this time, did I? Stop worrying.”

Angel was quiet, his hand still resting on Spike's neck, fingers stroking the fine hair. “You didn't last time either.”

The red rimmed eyes opened again, blinking at him sleepily. “Didn't what when?”

“Throw up or pass out. When I first... took you up on your offer.”

“No?” Spike raised his eyebrows, then dropped them again along with his eyelids. He yawned, his head nodding as he started to doze off. “Odd.”

“I'm just wondering...” Angel stared out into the dark. “Wes thinks you're getting sick as a reaction to what you've been doing. The horror of it making your mind punish your body. But the times you've been with me...”

He looked at Spike but he was already asleep, face slack and peaceful despite the lines of exhaustion and worry drawn in the pale skin. Angel reached for the blanket in the backseat and draped it over him then sat back and resumed his stare out into the darkness.

\-------------------------

Drusilla was pulling at his arm, trying to get him to run out into the sun with her. He tried to tell her she couldn't, that she would burn up until she was nothing but ashes but she just laughed and sung about the stars calling for her and then she was gone, leaving him cemented in the wheelchair with Angelus lying naked on the bed, bellowing with laughter. She looked horrifyingly beautiful where she danced in the flames, twirling around and around until there was nothing left but a pillar of smoke.

The tugging continued and he opened his eyes to find Angel looking at him, eyes worried but steady. “He's home. Are you okay?”

“What?” He blinked and suddenly remembered where they were and why. “Yeah.” His stomach turned but he ignored it and sat up straight, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He looked out towards the house. There was light in the windows and a shadow moved behind the curtains. He glanced up at the sky. The stars were paler than before but it would still be about an hour until sunrise. “Let's do this.”

They got out of the car and hurried across the street then climbed the stairs in silent hurry. Once they reached the fifth floor Angel looked around, frowning. “We need to get in somehow.”

Spike studied the door. “I should be able to get in unless he's revoked the invitation. I saw this place in my fun flashback. I still don't remember how he got me to come here though.”

“Probably offered you free beer.”

Spike shoved his elbow hard into Angel's ribs. “Haha, funny boy. Right. Here we go.”

He stalked to the door and knocked hard. “Mr. White? It's the police. Please open up or we'll have to break the door down.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Police? That's the best you can do? And by the way, your American accent is horrible.” He shoved Spike to the side. “Hide.”

The door opened hesitantly, the security chain still linked. A thin drawn face with blood veined eyes stared out at him, a smell of cigarettes and alcohol flooding the hall. “Police? What's it about?”

“Mr. White? Are you the owner of a black Honda, licence plate 3BYK498?”

The man frowned worryingly. “Yes. Why?”

“I'm afraid it has been reported as being the causing party in a hit-and-run, resulting in the death of one person and seriously injuring two others. Please let us in, sir. I can smell the alcohol on your breath. You don't want to make things more difficult for yourself.”

“What?” The door closed briefly as the chain was taken off and then it opened, revealing a short thin man of around fifty, wearing shabby jeans and a coffee stained cardigan. His face was a mix of worry and confusion. “I haven't used my car all day. I just came home from the bar down the street. Why the hell would I drive from there?”

“No need for profanities, sir. Just let us in and maybe we can sort this out.”

“Yes, of course. Come in. I just don't understand...” He turned around with a frown. “Wait, let me see your IDs-”

But it was too late. Angel pushed him into the narrow hall of the small apartment, followed by Spike who closed the door quietly behind him.

“What! What are you...?” His eyes widened and he stumbled back as he noticed Spike who calmly lit a cigarette and looked around with faint interest. “You! You monster! How did you-”

“We ask the questions here, Mr. White. And you owe us more than a few answers.”

White turned to Angel, his face pale but his eyes burning with anger. “Do you know what he is? What he's done? My daughter! He-he killed her! Murdered her! And-and did... horrible things to her. My little girl. My sweet darling.” Tears started running down his face, his whole body shaking with fear and anger.

“I know perfectly well what he is, Mr. White. I also know that he had no choice regarding your daughter. It wasn't his fault.”

“Angel...” Spike took a step closer but Angel raised his hand to keep him back.

“Don't you lie to me! I know! He was seen, picking up girls and then they disappeared. He killed them!” He turned to Spike and spat at him. “Monster!”

Angel growled. “Calm down, Mr. White, or I will have to calm you down. You don't want that.”

The man turned back to Angel and gasped when he saw the yellow eyes glinting. “You! You are one too!” His feet suddenly went from under him and he stumbled back and fell down on the tattered couch. “You're going to kill me, aren't you?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't care. I have nothing anymore. Nothing.”

“Mr. White, I do feel for you. I'm sorry about your daughter. But what you did to this man-”

“Monster!”

“What you did to this _man_ is too horrible of a punishment even if he is guilty.”

“Of course he's guilty! He's a beast! A demon! A-”

“A vampire. Like me. And yes, we were monsters once, both of us. But things are different now. We have souls-”

White glared up at him. “Why are you telling me this? He killed her! I don't care if he has a soul, I don't care if he has a dozen souls. He killed her and he must pay!”

“You're right.” Spike stepped forward, eyes downcast. “If I did kill her I should pay.” He slowly raised his eyes and stared straight into the man angry face. “But not like this. You knew what I was and still you send me out there, with no memory of who or what I am and let others do the punishment for you. What if I had killed one of them? Some innocent man, just looking for a quick relief or a person to share his lonely night? I was not myself, I wouldn't have remembered my soul. A single drop of blood and I might have given in to my instinct and attacked. That was a risk you were willing to take just to get your revenge.”

“They don't matter. Only my-”

“Only your daughter. Yes, I got that.” Spike took one step closer, eyes still locked on the man. “Dinah, yeah? Maybe I did kill her. I don't remember. You see, you're not the first one to mess with my head like this. But while you turned me into a whore the other one turned me into a killer. I used to be one so I guess it didn't take much.”

White snarled. “You think that gets you off the hook? That just because-”

“No. Like I said, I used to be a killer anyway. So even if I couldn't help killing your daughter I did kill hundreds and thousands of others and one of them could just as easily have been yours.” He paused and briefly looked away. “When I found out about what I had been doing, what I had been forced to do, I begged a girl, much like yours, to kill me. She refused. I hated her for it. But she was right. It wasn't my time.” He turned his gaze back on the man who sat staring at him, still angry but his curiosity was evident. “When I did die I went willingly, knowing it was what I had been destined to do. I was content. Almost happy. Which is probably why they threw me back.” He glanced at Angel who stood by, listening with a look of worry on his face. “Creatures like us aren't supposed to be happy.”

The man leant forward, sick fascination in his eyes. “You died?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Burned up from the inside. Popping eyeballs, melting bones, the whole shebang. Don't really recommend it.”

The man's smile was disturbing. “And what was Hell like?”

“I wouldn't know. Heaven is pretty nice though.”

He leaned casually against the wall, enjoying the matching stares of shock from both man and vampire.

“He-heaven?”

“Think so. Bright place, feeling happy, met some old friends.”

“They let _you_ into Heaven?”

“Yep. Either God was too busy to notice that the bloke who saved the world was actually a heartless monster or he forgave me. Don't know, don't care. Either way they soon figured out their mistake and sent me back. Have to atone for my sins and save the world a few more times before I'm really one of the good guys, I guess. But now you're bollocksing that all up and he's not happy.”

White blinked. “God?”

“God, Allah, Buddha, who knows? I wasn't really invited to sit at his table, you know. For all I know he's a big pussy.” At the shocked look on the man face he added hastily, “I mean cat.”

“But...” The man looked at loss.

“All I'm saying is that I will get my punishment - if I recall correctly it includes 500 years in purgatory and listening to a lot of Celine Dion - but until then I have work to do and you've got to let me do it.”

White seemed to shrink in his chair. “You killed her. You-you raped her.”

“Probably did. And since then I've died once and been raped myself quite a few times. Thanks to you. Not the complete punishment you were looking for but maybe it can satisfy you until the day comes that I go to Hell and have a whole army of demons fucking my arse. Ask Angel, he's been there. Lots of raping and whatnots.”

The man looked over at the still shell-shocked Angel who had the good sense to look solemn and nod in agreement. “Spent a hundred years in Hell. I can show you scars if you like.” He tugged at his shirt.

The man shook his head fervently. “No, no. That's... all right.”

Spike pushed himself off the wall and crouched in front of the man, grabbing his hands between his own. “You're not a bad man, Mr. White. Grief makes you do crazy things. But I think you can see past that and do what is right. Undo this hypnosis or whatever it is so I can save other girls from ending up like your daughter. Please.”

The man stared at him and then with a shudder he crumbled, heavy sobs breaking from his chest. “She was my world. She was my everything.”

Spike squeezed his hands. “I know. And you have made me suffer for it, more than you can imagine. But if you don't undo it I might kill again. And if you kill me I will not be able to save others. But if you still wish me to die, then so be it.”

He heard Angel suck in his breath but he ignored him, eyes steady on the broken man in front of him. He pulled the stake he'd taken from Wes out of the pocket of his coat and placed it in the trembling hands. “Here. Just, please, do it quickly.”

White stared at the weapon in his hand and then up at Spike who had sat back on his heels and was unbuttoning his shirt. “You... I can kill you? Just like that?”

“If that's what you think you have to do, yes. Because I can't go on like this.” He shivered. “And if you don't undo what you did I will kill one day. Instinct, mate. Takes over pretty quickly when you find yourself being gang raped by some sick bastards. And once I start...” He shrugged and continued unbuttoning his shirt, then pried it open and pointed to his heart. “Just shove it in here, between the ribs. Fast and hard or it might not take.”

White was almost vampire pale and his hand shook as he raised the stake. Angel took a step forward but Spike raised his hand, warding him off. A minute went by. A lifetime. Then White sunk down, the stake dropping to the floor with a clatter. Spike picked it up and shoved it back into his pocket.

“All right then. How about we lift this nasty spell you've cast on me and we can be on our way, out of your life forever?”

White nodded slowly, then got up and walked shakily to the cupboard, pulling out a drawer and extracting from it a sheet of paper. He read it over in silence then turned to Spike who now stood, watching him.

“I wanted you to feel what she felt when you...” His voice broke and he took a few deep breaths before looking up again. “They told me it couldn't be done, that the mind would never accept such an order. But they were wrong. Bought you one beer and slipped drugs into it to make you more compliant. You never even noticed, too busy ogling the girls on the stage. Probably wondering which one would scream the loudest when you forced her to your bed.”

“Mr. White...”

“You followed me home like a good little puppy once I told you he was there,” White jerked his head toward Angel, “hurt and waiting for you. So easy. And the hypnosis... I hardly had the words out of my mouth before you dropped to your knees like the whore you are. The whore you obviously knew you deserved to be. Had to kick you in the face to get you off me. Like I would ever let something like you touch me.” He spat again, a look of deep disgust on his face.

“Most people use triggers, words that make the mind snap into the right place. Too easy to figure out. Bet you never realised that it was all you, you did it to yourself. I wanted to use feelings of love, of happiness. Thought it fitting considering your friend's here history. Didn't work though, you were too damn miserable and who the hell would love you? So I went with hope. Random enough to not happen all the time, didn't want it to form a noticeable pattern, but I knew from the things you told me when you were under that it was the only thing keeping you going. Flashes of hope. Hopes for the future, for being noticed, for the love of this man, this thing that hated you so much.”

Angel growled but White didn't even seem to notice.

“Couldn't use just that though since the worse you'd get the less hope you'd feel. So despair, that was the other one. Something you didn't have then but would surely feel as it progressed. Worse and worse until all you would get were moments of awareness, knowing what was happening but unable to stop it.” White laughed a hollow cold laughter. “You know what is the most common cause of death among victims of sexual abuse? Suicide.” His eyes took on a wistful gaze. “It would have been glorious seeing you crawl your way into the sun, broken and bleeding and praying for death as you slowly burned into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, well... Another time, eh?” Spike's casual words were in sharp contrast to his strangled voice, visions from his dream of Dru's fire dance flashing through his mind. “Are we doing this or not?”

White hesitated, the glow of mad euphoria dying in his eyes. He fiddled with the piece of paper in his hand, a look of indecision and grief on his face. Then suddenly he deflated, his shoulders slumped and he blinked the tears from his eyes. Walking over he looked deep into Spike's eyes, muttering some strange words under his breath. Then he snapped his fingers loudly before looking up at Angel. “That should be it.”

“Thank you.” Spike turned on his heel and walked to the door. He looked over his shoulder at Angel who was eyeing the man suspiciously. “Are you coming?”

“Yes.” Angel followed him to the door but at the last minute turned back and grabbed White, whispering something in his ear before abruptly letting him go. Then he walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Spike looked back as he trotted down the stairs. “What was that about?”

“Just warned him that if he's tricked us his daughter's suffering will be nothing compared to his own.” Angel's voice was hard, his face like stone.

Spike slowed down for a few steps but then shrugged and continued down, lips thin. “Usually the bad cop does his thing before the good cop, you know.”

“Yeah, well...” Angel grabbed Spike by the arm as soon as they came out the door, pushed him into the siding alley and without a word punched him so hard he slammed into the wall, teeth rattling as he slid to the ground. “What the fucking hell were you thinking!?! You gave him a stake? Are you fucking insane!?!”

Spike got slowly to his feet and spat blood on the grimy ground before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Could have waited for him to carve one but he didn't look the carpenter type. And since I had one handy...”

“You... asshole!” Angel turned his back, heaving for breath, and then with a sudden bout of rage slammed his fist into the opposite wall. “He could have killed you! What the fucking hell were you thinking?”

“Angel...”

He swung around, fists clenched. “Don't fucking 'Angel' me! If you wanted him to kill you why the hell was I there? To sweep up your ashes?” He grabbed Spike by the collar and pushed him up against the wall, shaking him so hard his head banged against the rough surface. “You fucking shit! Why the hell did you do that?”

Spike pushed him off and angrily rubbed the back of his head, bringing his hand back smeared with blood. “Okay, okay. Will you shut up for just a few seconds?” He wiped his stained palm on his thigh before fixing his eyes on Angel's furious scowl. “He wasn't gonna kill me, all right? If there's one thing I'm good at it's reading people and that man was no face-to-face killer.”

Angel growled. “You had no way of knowing that.”

“No, but I was sure enough that I felt it was a chance worth taking.” He sighed when Angel's anger didn't lessen at all. “Look, did you see that bloke's arms? He was about as strong as a ten year old girl. He'd hardly have pierced my skin before I'd broken his wrists.”

Angel shook his head. “You told him you wouldn't fight back.”

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, sucking in air through his nostrils in exasperation, before once again giving Angel the most patient look he could master. “Said that to give him some closure didn't I? Had to make him feel he was letting me go because he wanted to, not because we forced him to. I mean, let's face it, I probably did kill his daughter and he needed to feel he'd gotten his revenge and was still a good man.” Spike tilted his head, smiling tiredly. “I'm not suicidal, pet. One inch closer and I'd have snapped him like a twig.”

Angel didn't smile back. “Sometimes one inch is all it takes. Don't ever do that again, you hear me? Ever! I wouldn't have been fast enough to stop him. I wouldn't have been able to...” He closed his eyes, a violent shudder shaking his body. “Christ, Will! I thought I'd lose you.”

Spike's smile faded and he bowed his head briefly before looking back up, face solemn. “I meant what I said in there. It wasn't my time then and it isn't my time now. I would know. You're not going to lose me, Angel. Not at the hand of a scrawny little coward like that.”

He cupped Angel's face gently, smiling softly at him when he reluctantly opened his eyes. “When I go it will be in the biggest fight of our lives, probably because I got distracted watching your pretty arse. And then you'll blame yourself forever. Trust me.”

Angel held his gaze, the emotions playing upon his face. Then in a flash he was pushing Spike once again up against the wall but this time he attacked him with his lips, hands clasping the sides of his head as he crashed their mouths together so hard Spike could feel his lip splitting again. His head hurt where the wound was pressing into the wall but he didn't care, didn't really feel much else than Angel's tongue in his mouth and the thigh grinding his cock. It wasn't until Angel moved his right hand down to start working on Spike's belt that he broke away, gasping for air. “Wait, wait!”

“Need you. Now!” Angel growled, clawing at his clothes but Spike pushed him away again and pointed to the rapidly lighting sky.

“Sunrise. Now!”

They ran to the car, coats over their heads and when they closed the car door behind them the windows greyed with smoke.

“That was close.”

Spike threw him a 'duh' look. “See what I mean about distraction? You'll be the death of me, Angel, you and your damn tongue.”

Angel smothered the small flames on the sleeve of his coat before looking up at him, smirking. “Not unless I lick you to death”

Spike grinned. “Yeah? I'd like to see you give it a try.” An image of Angel doing just that flashed through his mind and he groaned. “Like now. Bloody hell, yeah. Get this sorry excuse of a car home, Angel. Now!”

They were half-way there when Angel frowned and turned to look at him. “Wait... You were in _Heaven_?”

Spike smiled. “Maybe. Who knows? All I can recall is burning to ashes and then reappearing in your office.”

Angel blinked. “You lied to him?”

“Evil, remember?” Spike looked up at him and grinned. “You believed me? God, Angel. Sometimes you're so naïve.”

“I can't believe...” Angel shook his head. “No way you're going there now. Blasphemer.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Says the man who liked to kill nuns.”

“Guess we'll be going to hell together then.” Angel sighed. “Save me a seat on the bus?”

“Definitely. Ooh! I call window!”

“Brat.”

“Wanker.”

“Idiot.”

“Git.”

“I love you.”

“Po- What?” Spike stared at Angel's somewhat embarrassed face.

“Wesley says I'm juvenile. For not being able to just come out and say it. So this is me being an adult. Thought it was about time after all these years.”

There was silence and then Spike cleared his throat. “He called me a lovesick teenager.” He chuckled. “For a loony he sure has his moments.”

Angel drove into the basement parking and parked the car before turning to Spike. He swallowed. “So are you? Lovesick, I mean. Because you're obviously not a teenager,” he added hastily.

Spike sat quiet for a while and then he raised his eyes. “Yeah. I'd say that sums it up pretty nicely.”

They held each others gaze for a while and then Angel reached out, stroking his fingers along Spike's neck. “You and me then?”

Spike smiled. “Just like old times.”

Angel laughed and pulled him in for a swift kiss. “Oh no.” He kissed him again, harder, then got out of the car and waited impatiently for Spike to follow him. “This time it's going to be totally different.”

“Yeah? In what way? You going to let me top?”

Spike looked up and at once his laughter stilled. Angel was watching him with dark eyes, licking his lips slowly. Spike sucked in his breath, his brain suddenly more confused than ever.

“What? No. I was only having a laugh. I don't want to...” He blinked, suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time. “You're gonna let me top? Angel...”

Angel shook his head. “Not now. Now I'm taking you upstairs for some licking. And when you're wet all over and limp like putty I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll be begging me to stop.”

Spike closed his eyes briefly while the shiver subsided. Then he tilted his head, pursing his lips to keep them from smiling. “Told you, mate. I don't beg.”

“Told me you didn't whimper either.” The smirk was pure Angelus. “But those were some sweet noises you made last night.”

“Yeah? Sure you could hear me right for all the moaning? Sounded like a bitch in heat you did.” Spike put his hands behind his head and rolled back his eyes. “'Yeah, Spike.' 'God, Spike, that's sooo goood.' 'Spike, you are the best lay ever!'”

Angel tried to hold the evil face but once the small 'ooh's and 'aah's started he couldn't keep the laughter away. “Damn it, Spike. If you keep that up we'll never get upstairs. Come here.” He pulled Spike in, rubbing his head with his knuckles before pushing him in the direction of the elevator. “Get in there. Damn brat.”

“Yeah, and that's why you love me.”

Angel smiled as he leaned forward, pushing the penthouse button. “Among other things.”

Halfway up the elevator stopped, stuck between floors. It didn't move for another hour.  



	6. Chapter 6

“Just saw Wesley. He's looking better. Not picture perfect but...” Angel closed the door and tugged at his tie. “He waited almost three seconds before leaving the room when Gunn came in so I guess they're patching up.” The suit jacket landed on the couch as he kicked off his shoes. “And Illyria is having fun studying the internet. So far she's broken two monitors and one tower. Not sure if it was because it refused to talk to her or those damn Smiley pop-ups again.” He unbuttoned the shirt as he walked through the apartment, a frown shaping his face. “Spike?”

Hmmm, this was odd. The light in the bedroom was turned off but even when he flipped the switch it didn't shed any light on where Spike was hidden since the room was empty. He could sense him near but there was no movement anywhere, not a single sound. He walked over to the bathroom door, knocking on it lightly.

“Spike? You in there?”

No answer and the room proved also empty when he opened the door. His frown deepening he walked back into the living room, stopping dead when he saw the slight figure kneeling in front of the couch that had concealed him when he came in from the other side. He was only wearing a pair of jeans, the bare soles of his feet in sharp contrast to the dark wooden floors.

“Spike?”

There was no movement, no answer. Shit. He walked swiftly over, gripping Spike's chin, tilting his head upwards. His eyes were strangely blank but as soon as Angel touched him he seemed to be switched on and rose to his feet, graceful like a cat.

“Sir. You're home.”

Flashes of white exploded behind Angel's eyes and he roared in fury. “Fuck! I'm going to kill that lying sonofabitch!”

He turned to grab his jacket but stopped when his wrist was caught by slender fingers that then ran up his arm, shooting sparks of electricity up his spine. When he looked back Spike was watching him with those blank eyes but then suddenly he winked, a wicked smile gracing his lips for a sliver of a second.

Angel frowned. “Spike?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Again that glint of amusement but then Spike was blinking innocently. “Long hard day, sir? Anything I can do to make you feel better? Anything at all?”

He blinked, feeling suddenly hot and flushed. “Anything at all?”

Spike licked his lips. “Yes. Master.” He bowed his head and Angel sucked in his breath, his cock jumping up like a saluting soldier.

“Christ!” He quickly moved to loosen his belt but Spike seized his wrists and pulled back his hands.

“Let me.”

He dropped to his knees, mimicking what happened in the elevator what seemed like a lifetime ago. Angel shivered when the cool fingers slipped inside and brought him out and he looked down just in time to see his cock disappear in between pink lips. Spike was watching him, blue eyes glittering through his thick lashes, the blankness soon giving up for a heated stare. When Angel reached down and tangled his fingers in the blond hair his eyes fluttered close, a moan vibrating in his mouth.

“That's it, boy. God, you're good.”

He tugged hard at the blond strands, holding Spike still as he fucked his mouth deep and fast. He could feel his release starting to crawl its way to his cock and he pulled out, heaving for breath. “Into the bedroom. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Spike rose fluidly to his feet. “Do you want me to undress?”

“No.” Angel pulled him in for a hard kiss before pushing him toward the bedroom. “When I want you naked I'll rip them off,” he growled.

Spike shivered. “Yes, sir.”

He walked slowly and seductively into the bedroom, his bare feet making no sound on the dark floor.

“On the bed, hands on the railing.”

Spike crawled over the bed, wrapped his fingers around the railing and bowed his head. Angel wasn't sure which part he wanted to lick more, the protruding shoulder blades, the dimples that were just visible above the low-slung jeans or the bare soles of his feet. Slowly he slid of his pants, folding them carefully before laying them on a chair. He heard a low snicker but when he looked back Spike was still in the same position, his face hidden by his arms.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Angel knelt on the bed and pulled Spike roughly toward him, pushing his cock hard against Spike’s denim-clad ass. The gasp and following shudder made him smile and he leaned forward, licking up a path from the waistband of Spike’s jeans to the short hairs in his neck. “Yeah? Sounded like laughter to me. You laughing at me, boy?”

“No. Never, sir.” Spike dropped his head even further, pushing back against Angel’s hard erection.

“Good. Now be quiet.” Angel ran his hands up Spike’s back until he reached his shoulders then he pushed him down hard so his arms were painfully stretched to keep his hold on the railing, arse high in the air. “Stay.”

He got off the bed and walked into the kitchen. If he remembered correctly there was a bottle off…ah! The grin on his face as he returned with his prize to the bedroom would be best described as evil.

“Now…” He pursed his lips in thought. Spike was absolutely still except for the shallow breaths making his body quiver. “Where to start?”

Angel popped the top of the bottle and tipped it slowly over, watching the golden liquid hit the small of Spike's back and then run down toward his neck. Right before it reached his hairline Angel leaned over and caught it with his tongue which he then ran up the sticky path left on Spike's skin. The syrup was tooth-achingly sweet, sticking to his lips and coating his tongue. Spike's skin was raised in goosebumps, his knuckles white where they held on to the bed-railing and his breathing was shallow and erratic. Angel licked the last drop off before sitting back on his heels.

“You're allowed to make sounds.”

Spike's desperate moan hissed out between his teeth and the sound went straight to Angel's cock. He lifted the bottle again, painting a sticky pattern across Spike's back, being careful not to let it run off the edges and onto the bed. Spike was already shivering in anticipation and at the first touch of Angel's tongue on his skin he was bucking and arching his back, soft whimpers of need breathed into the bedspread.

When Spike was finally licked clean Angel sat up, smacking his lips. “Syrup tastes good on you. Better than on pancakes.” The sticky substance covered his chin and cheeks and he grabbed Spike by the hair, pulling his head up. They kissed slowly and then Spike licked Angel's face clean, his eyes glowing with lust.

“Sweet?”

Spike nodded, licking his lips. “Yeah. But you taste better on your own.”

Angel chuckled but then his face became solemn and he pushed Spike's head down again. He ran his hands up his back, finally resting them on his hips, clawing at the jeans. “Bet it tastes good out of your ass though.”

Spike shivered, mumbling into the pillow, “Bet it tastes better out of yours.”

Angel stilled. “I thought I was the Master in this game.”

Spike turned his head to look up at him. “You could always order me to do it, sir. And other things.” He looked anything but submissive.

Angel swallowed. “You know, you're ruining it. The game. You're an awful slave.”

Spike smirked and pushed his bottom higher. “Sorry, sir. You should punish me. And then I can beg you for forgiveness.” He quirked his eyebrow. “With my tongue.”

“Just your tongue?”

Spike blinked innocently. “Unless I've been really, really bad. Then that might not be enough. Might have to work very hard for your forgiveness. Very, very hard. And fast. And deep. Again and again and...”

Angel ripped Spike's jeans off in one swift motion, poured syrup into his hand and rubbed it over his cock before gripping Spike's hips and pushing inside. It was hard to tell which one gasped loudest. He stilled for a moment before pulling out and slamming back inside. Again and again, harder and faster as Spike writhed and cursed underneath him, pushing back against each thrust. Angel grabbed him again by the hair and pulled his head back, kissing and biting at his lips, the frantic need to taste him surprising him as much as Spike. He just couldn't get enough of his mouth and finally drew out and flipped Spike over before pushing back inside, fucking him with fast and shallow thrust as he sucked Spike's tongue into his mouth, crushing their lips together until he could taste blood. Sucked and bit and thrust his tongue in in rhythm with his cock fucking Spike's body until he felt dizzy. When he abandoned the abused lips for a moment to lick Spike's neck Spike drew in his breath, his body starting to shake with the need to come.

“Fuck, Angel. God!”

He couldn't answer, his lungs too busy panting to breathe out words. Just kissed Spike's mouth hard again and again before diving down to suck a bruise right above his collarbone. That's all it took to push Spike over the edge and he wrapped his legs around Angel's waist to pull him in deeper and harder as he bucked and moaned, spilling his release out between their bellies.

“Jesus! Oh... fuck.”

Angel shook, his fingers pulling at Spike's hair, and then he pressed his lips against Spike's neck to muffle the feral howl coming from his chest. With a final thrust he collapsed, heaving for breath, crushing Spike's body beneath his. They lay still, shaking and panting, until Angel rolled off and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“That was...”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, Angel. You were...” Spike shook his head and shivered. “Bloody hell!”

“I'm sorry. I just really needed to...” Angel waved his hand as if that would explain everything. “... taste you,” he finished lamely.

“I thought you were gonna eat me. Literally.” Spike chuckled and rubbed gingerly at his lips. “What was that all about?”

“I just...” Angel turned his head, gazing at Spike's bruised and swollen lips and the many lip-shaped bruises on his neck and shoulders. “I really needed to kiss you. I mean really _kiss_ you. I just suddenly thought of all the years I could have been kissing you, all the thousand and thousand of kisses I've missed out on and...” He reached over and stroke a finger across Spike's lips. “Guess I got kinda desperate.”

Spike smiled and winced as that opened another split in his lips. “Guess you did.” He rolled over on his side, watching Angel thoughtfully, one hand resting on Angel's chest, rubbing his toes along his shin. “What made you suddenly think of that?”

Angel froze. “Nothing. I was just thinking. I think sometimes.”

“Hmm...” Spike shook his head. “You're a horrible liar, Angel.”

“I'm not...” Angel sighed. “Okay. I found your notes this morning. From the hypnosis.” He looked down. “They must have fallen out of your pocket because they were lying on the floor, half hidden under the couch. You were sleeping and I...”

“You read them.”

“Yes.”

“They were private.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

“For a reason, Angel. You were not supposed to know all those things.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it's none of your business, that's why. Fuck, Angel!” Spike rolled over on his back and closed his eyes. “Only reason I wrote them down was to get it all out of my head. Couldn't bear having all those memories suddenly filling my brain. Those men and...” He shivered. “God, I really was a whore. No dignity at all and the things I let them do, begged them to do...”

“Spike-”

“You weren't supposed to know, Angel!” Spike sat up abruptly, his back turned. “I can't believe you-”

“I skipped that part.”

Spike turned around, frowning. “What?”

“Well, most of it. Just skimmed it looking for...” Angel paused then reached out and pulled Spike back down on the bed without too much resistance. “Believe me, Spike, I don't want those images playing in my head any more than you do.”

“So what-?”

“Wesley asked you about us. Me and you and... this.” Angel gestured between them. “He showed me the questions. I just wanted to see what you said.”

Spike's frown deepened. “And that turned you into a crazy kisser? I don't get it.”

He breathed in slowly before answering, his hand resting above Spike's heart. “You said: 'The thing I miss the most is the way he would kiss me, any time, anywhere, bugger the circumstances. As if he wanted the whole world to know I was his. And I was. But now I'm not. And it's killing me.'” Angel swallowed. “But you are, Spike. Mine. I guess I just wanted you to know that. To feel like that again.”

Spike lay still, staring up at the ceiling. Then he turned his head slowly, his eyes dark and intense. “Yours.”

“Yeah.”

“And you're mine.”

Angel swallowed again. “Yes.”

They lay still for a long time, gazing at each other but then Spike suddenly moved and Angel found himself pinned down, wrists seized, a hard cock pressing down on his thigh. Spike's eyes were golden, his face rippling briefly then smoothing out again and when he licked his lips Angel shivered under his gaze. Spike closed his eyes for a second before taking a deep breath.

“You will be.”

Two hours later, Angel lay aching and exhausted with a sleeping Spike sprawled across his chest, marks of his ownership covering every inch of Angel's body.

fin  



End file.
